■8fc2r-* v : m mm 





us* 






Hb 



£*>«« 









y fl g fM Mi gHlE 



/+# 






^Wo^tylt^^ 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



jy(t/tqt**/fll 



/ 



>. I •-, i . M *, 






.* 



THE 



ACTIVE CHRISTIAN: 



SERIES OF LECTURES. 



BY 

JOHN HOWARD HINTON, A.M. 



FIRST AMERICAN EDITION; 

With an Introduction by the Rev. Ezra Stiles Ely, D. D. 



PHILADELPHIA: 

FRENCH & PERKINS, 

159 CHESNUT STREET. 

1833. 



~$> 






Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 
1833, by French & Perkins, in the Clerk's Office of the 
District Court of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 



S4?"3if. 



PRINTED BY T. W. USTICK, NO. 49 PRUNE STREET 



INTRODUCTION. 

Man has been formed for activity ; and if he 
is renewed in his mind he will be an active 
Christian. The whole of his religious activity 
is commonly called holy living ; and he who 
does not exert the faculties of his mind in con- 
formity with the moral law, cannot be the sub- 
ject of spiritual life. 

" Lord, what wilt thou have me to do ?" is an 
inquiry which arises from the heart of every con- 
verted sinner ; to which the answer has been 
given in numerous ways, that we should do good 
unto all men as we have opportunity, and espe- 
cially to the household of faith. No one should 
regard himself as a Christian, or as a sincere fol- 
lower of the Lord Jesus, who is not actively en- 
gaged in doing his will. If a man loves Christ 
he will keep his commandments; and if any man 
loves him not he is accursed. 

It is clearly shown, in the following work, that 
the foregoing statements are true ; and that the 
great business of every Christian, while dwelling 
upon earth, should be, to glorify God, by promo- 
ting the conversion of sinners and the edification 
of saints. The author inculcates the important 
doctrines, that in every case the new birth re- 
sults from the gracious influences of the Holy 
Spirit of God ; who moves the persons employ- 



IV INTRODUCTION. 

ing the appointed means of converting sinners, 
no less than the minds of sinners converted : that 
the new birth is a great and necessary moral 
change, in which the soul commences a never 
ending course of holy activity : and that those 
who labour, agreeably to the divine will, for the 
conversion of sinners, may confidently expect a 
large share of success. "Some exertions will 
fail, and any exertion may fail ; but all will not 
fail." " We shall have many failures, but more 
successes ; we shall behold too many spots of 
barrenness, but we shall see a general fertility ; 
much seed will perish, and many green ears be 
blighted, but those who sow shall reap ; and he 
who hath gone forth weeping, bearing precious 
seed, shall doubtless return again rejoicing, 
bringing his sheaves with him. On the whole, 
therefore, the success attending labours for God 
will not only be satisfactory, but abundant. It 
is too little to say that it will be enough to recom- 
pense the expenditure ; it will be sufficient to in- 
spire a grateful and overflowing joy, like the joy 
of harvest." 

The writer of this introduction would not be- 
come answerable for every expression which Mr. 
Hinton has used ; nor does he profess agree- 
ment with him in every shade of thought ; yet 
he cannot refrain from recommending " The 
Active Christian" to all who would well consider 
the talents for usefulness which have been given 



INTRODUCTION. V 

them, improve those talents, and employ them 
effectually in saving their fellow man. The 
style of the author is simple ; his thoughts are 
clear, and every page of his Lectures may please 
and profit the candid reader. 

Some will doubtless accuse the author of at- 
tributing too much to human means, and will re- 
present him as " a new light divine" in the Bap- 
tist Church in old England ; but he ought to be 
regarded as more Calvinistic and scriptural in 
his sentiments than most of the persons who will 
accuse him. When Paul apologizes for having 
spoken of <f saving some," and of having " be- 
gotten" men " through the truth ;" and when 
Paul and Peter are convicted of heresy for not 
explicitly referring to the agency of the Spirit in 
every instance in which they speak of one per- 
son's converting and saving another, then we 
shall be disposed to censure our author as an 
Arminian. That he does not teach the efficiency 
of God in doing those actions for men which the 
Saviour says proceed out of their own hearts, 
and beyond which we need not look for a cause, 
we joyfully proclaim. Of a physical regenera- 
tion, and of moral agency by machinery, he is 
not an advocate. 

EZRA STILES ELY. 

Philadelphia^ April 4tth, 1833. 



CONTENTS. 



LECTURE I. 

SURVEYING THE FIELD OF LABOUR. 

Lord what wilt thou have me to do ? — Acts ix. 6. page 1 

LECTURE II. 

ESTIMATING HIS RESOURCES. 
Bearing precious seed. — Psalm cxxvi. 6. - - 21 

LECTURE III. 

CULTIVATING FITNESS FOR LABOUR. 

Then will I teach transgressors thy ways, and sinners shall 
be converted unto thee. — Psalm li. 13. 41 

LECTURE IV. 

PREPARING FOR ACTION. 

Him that girdeth on his harness. — 1 Kings xx. 11. - 61 

LECTURE V. 

HABITUAL ACTION. 

Lights in the world. — Philip, ii. 15. 80 

LECTURE VI. 

SPECIFIC ACTION. 

I made haste, and delayed not. — Psalm cxix. 60. - 100 

LECTURE VII. 

TREATMENT OF VARIOUS CASES. 

The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul ; the 
testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple. 
The statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart ; 
the commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the 
eyes. — Psalm xix. 7, 8. 120 



VI li CONTENTS. 

LECTURE VIII. 

DIRECT EXERCISES AFTER LABOUR. 

O Lord, I beseech thee, send now prosperity. — Psalm 
cxviii. 25. 139 

LECTURE IX. 

INDIRECT EXERCISES AFTER LABOUR. 

They made me keeper of the vineyards, but mine own 
vineyard have I not kept. — Canticles i. 6. - 158 

LECTURE X. 

SUCCESS EXPECTED. 
For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty 
through God to the pulling down of strong holds. — 
2 Cor. x. 4. ------- 177 

LECTURE XI. 

SUCCESS WANTING. 

Who hath believed our report ? and to whom hath the arm 
of the Lord been revealed? — Isaiah liii. 1. - 197 

LECTURE XII. 

SUCCESS GRANTED. 

Now thanks be to God, who always causeth us to triumph 
in Christ, and maketh manifest the savour of his know- 
ledge by us in every place. — 2 Corinth, ii. 14. - 217 



THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

LECTURE I. 

SURVEYING THE FIELD OF LABOUR. 



Acts, ix. 6. 

Lord, what wilt thou have me to do ? 

Having already delivered to you, dear brethren, a 
series of discourses* adapted to induce and to urge you 
to the use of individual efforts for the conversion of 
sinners, I now proceed to some topics of instruction 
and of counsel connected with such endeavours. I am 
to take it for granted, therefore, that you acknowledge 
their obligation, that you feel their importance, and 
that you mean to make them. May I safely take this 
for granted 1 Does every one of you who has a know- 
ledge of salvation for himself really purpose, and al- 
ready begin, to say to his neighbour, Know thou the 
Lord? Have the arguments which have been presented 
to you been seriously weighed, and practically applied? 
Or have they been resisted, evaded, or forgotten 1 Upon 
some of you I trust they have not been without a bene- 
ficial and abiding influence: would to God that in- 
fluence had been universal, and more deep, both upon 
others' hearts and upon my own ! 

* See a recent volume by the same author, entitled, " Indivi. 
dual Effort for the Conversion of Sinners, enforced in a Series of 
Lectures adapted to promote a Revival of Religion." 
B 



( 



2 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

If, however, you are doing something, and intending 
to do all that may be your duty in this respect, accept 
kindly at my hands a few counsels adapted to guide 
and facilitate your efforts. They are submitted to you 
by one who knows something of the difficulty both of 
commencing and sustaining them ; and may not im- 
probably meet your experience in a work which you 
likewise may have found not unembarrassed. 

I present to you on this occasion the Active Chris- 
tian, for such you are resolved to be, surveying the 
field of labour. Having heard the voice of his Lord 
calling him to exertion, he adopts the inquiry, Lord, 
what wilt thou have me to do? Such should be your 
immediate attitude and primary exercise. Summoned 
to labour, you should attentively and carefully survey 
the field which is to be cultivated by your toil. Permit 
me to suggest to you, in the first place, some general 
reasons tohy such a survey should be made ; and in the 
second, the particular points to which it should be di- 
rected, 

L In speaking of the general reasons why a delibe- 
rate survey of our field of labour should be made, I 
might insist on its obvious propriety and necessity. 
Without considering what we have to do, it is not 
likely we shall do what we ought ; and it is certain we 
shall do nothing wisely or well. A heedless activity is 
an evil scarcely inferior to absolute sloth ; since it af- 
fords little prospect of a beneficial result, and, together 
with a waste of strength, incurs no small hazard of 
actual mischief. These general observations apply to 
nothing more forcibly than to endeavours for the con- 
version of sinners. In no respect may we more easily, 
on the one hand, go out of our place, and make attempts 






THE FIELD OF LABOUR. 



where we ought not ; or fail, on the other, to fill it up 
with completeness, and to be active always when we 
ought : in no case, therefore, is it more necessary to 
look well before us and around us. 

Not to insist further, however, upon a topic which 
is too obvious to require extended notice, I may pro- 
ceed to point out some of the specific advantages 
which an attentive survey of our sphere of action will 
afford. 

1. It will give a definite and practical character to 
our general sense of obligation. We hope that we 
have already a general sense of this obligation ; but 
while it remains general, it will be in a great mea- 
sure vague and uninfluential. We know that we ought 
to try to convert sinners ; but, unless we inquire also 
what sinners it is our duty to persuade, there is little 
probability of our ever beginning the work. A merely 
general conviction of this duty may render us uneasy, 
and perhaps almost unhappy, by generating a con- 
sciousness of unfulfilled obligation; but it can scarcely 
lead to action : it is much more likely gradually to sub- 
side and finally to disappear, if it is not even inten- 
tionally banished as an unwelcome and disagreeable 
guest. It is of great importance, therefore, that our 
general conviction of duty should be connected with a 
specific view of the persons to whom it relates ; and 
that we should be able to say, It is my duty to labour 
for the conversion, not merely of some persons, but of 
those particular persons whom I now contemplate. 
Our duty then will assume a more definite and tangible 
form ; it will be easier to begin, and more consciously 
criminal to delay. 

This advantage will be attained by the attentive sur- 



4 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

vey which I am recommending to you ; and it can be 
secured by no other means. Deliberately examine 
what apparently irreligious persons are properly within 
the reach of your influence, and then apply to them 
the general sense of obligation which already exists 
within you. Say to yourself, These are the sinners 
whom it must be my endeavour to turn unto God ; and 
here I must begin my efforts to instruct, to convince, 
and to persuade* The various pretexts which may 
have hindered your activity will thus be deprived of 
one of their principal shelters, and you will be able at 
length both to detect and to exterminate them ; while 
you will no longer be appalled by the apparent but 
unreal vastness, or perplexed by the seeming inaccessi- 
bility, of an undefined and intangible undertaking. You 
will not be looking on an unmeasured wilderness, with 
the thought that some unknown portion of it is to be 
cultivated by your labour ; but there will be before you 
a plot staked out and appropriated, inviting and en- 
forcing the immediate commencement of your toil. 

2. The survey recommended to you will yield im- 
portant information, and rectify many mistakes. 
Strange as it may seem, it is true, that, as men in 
general know little of their own hearts, so they know 
little likewise of their opportunities of usefulness. 
While they are altogether insensible to the obligation 
of useful exertion, it is not wonderful that opportuni- 
ties should be disregarded ; but even when this insen- 
sibility is removed, they are by no means speedily or 
extensively seen. The eye of the mind, like that of 
the body, is apt to dwell upon things that are remote, 
rather than things that are near ; and the immediate 
openings of useful exertion are thus in a great mea- 



THE FIELD OF LABOUR. 5 

sure overlooked, even by those who wish to improve 
them. Hence the feeling so common among" well- 
disposed persons, that there is little or nothing for 
them to do. If they were such or such an one, then 
they should have some valuable opportunities of ac- 
tion ; or if they were in some office, they should have 
scope for exertion ; but in, a private and obscure sta- 
tion like theirs, such things cannot be expected. 
Another sentiment, equally erroneous and mischiev- 
ous, is connected with this; a sentiment, namely, of 
satisfaction and complacency that persons who have 
done nothing have nevertheless done all they can: 
with our small opportunities, it is asked, what can we 
do more 2 

A survey of our condition will speedily supply a 
remedy for these common and hurtful errors. Let 
any person but seriously commence the inquiry how 
many ungodly persons are within the reach of means 
of religious benefit which he may use, beginning with 
his family and his neighbourhood, and extending his 
eye through the wider circle of acquaintance and 
casual intercourse ; and he will find them very unex- 
pectedly numerous. Several, perhaps, may be found 
within his own house ; many within a few yards of it ; 
and multitudes more crowding every path which he 
treads. Such a scrutiny will call up innumerable ob- 
jects of this class, as out of non-existence ; it will 
place the inquirer as in a new world ; and for ever 
banish the delusion that opportunities of usefulness for 
him are either wanting or few. 

Connected with the notion that we have few oppor- 
tunities, is the kindred fallacy that we possess few 
means of usefulness. When urged to exertion, per- 



(5 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

sons not unfrequently say, But I am not fit for what 
you would have me do ; I have not a capacity for such 
efforts ; I must leave them to others. I shall notice 
this subject more particularly afterwards ; but I may 
just observe here, that an attentive survey of our con- 
dition will go far towards the formation of a more ac- 
curate estimate. While we have no realizing view 
of the existing ignorance and irreligion which sur- 
round us, we may imagine that we have no means of 
attempting their cure ; but when these are before us 
in some tangible shape, no man who has found the 
adaptation of the gospel to his own necessities can fail 
to perceive its adaptation to those of others. Whether 
he may be disposed to act is another question ; but as- 
suredly he will be constrained to acknowledge, These 
people want instructions, warnings, reproofs, and en- 
couragements, with which I am acquainted, and which 
I might administer. 

3. An attentive survey of our sphere of action will 
supply us with many valuable impulses to labour. 
In the course of such an exercise we shall see igno- 
rance and sin in their substantial forms of criminality 
and wretchedness ; the levity which trifles with eter- 
nity, and dances on the brink of everlasting ruin ; the 
obduracy which dares the divine anger, and defies the 
most solemn reproof; the galled conscience and the 
dissatisfied heart with which worldly objects are pur- 
sued ; and the gloomy, though resisted, anticipations 
of death and a future world. These are things which, 
if we know the value of our own souls, we shall not 
contemplate unmoved. While we are musing the fire 
will burn ; a fire of compassion for perishing immor- 
tals, and of zeal for our dishonoured Maker, which 



THE FIELD OF LABOUR. 7 

will consume the lingering love of quietness and ease 
which to the last impede our exertions, and will impel 
us to some practical, if not to commensurate activity. 
It was intended that our hearts should be thus affected. 
As the sight of distress is among the most prompt and 
powerful of the stimulants designed to awaken the 
benevolence by which it is to be relieved, so it will be 
with compassion for souls ; and, if there is any thing 
valuable in the influence of this feeling, it behooves 
us to arouse and cherish it, by an intent and realizing 
observation of the guilt and wretchedness of those for 
whose good we are to labour. 

II. To these general observations on the importance 
of taking a survey of your field of labour, let me now 
add some remarks on the points to which your atten- 
tion should be chiefly directed. 

1. Your first object should be to observe its extent ; 
or to ascertain who and what persons are so situated 
with respect to you, as to be within the sphere of your 
proper influence for their spiritual good. 

This is manifestly a question upon the decision of 
which much depends, and in the consideration of 
which much wisdom is required. The space we mark 
out for ourselves may be either too large or too small. 
I am very far from wishing it to be too large. I have 
no inclination to say, be sure you take an ample scope. 
On the contrary, I should prefer that the boundaries 
of your allotment should be traced in a spirit of mode- 
ration, and that the determination of every point should 
be effected by the truest wisdom. No man is likely to 
do much good out of his place ; and a small field well 
cultivated is better than a large one half neglected. 
At the same time, I suppose no person would inten- 



8 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

tionally assign himself a sphere too small, or entertain 
a wish to exclude from his regard any of the objects 
to which it is justly due. A determined dishonesty 
and cherished sloth would he manifested in such a case 
as this, which I know not how to ascribe to any chris- 
tian indeed. 

(1.) What then is the principle upon which we are 
to proceed 1 How shall we mark out the persons for 
whose conversion we are bound to labour? 

In answer to this question, I shall not begin with 
the undoubted claim of persons nearly related to us, 
and so go on to more remote and questionable obliga- 
tions, but say at once that our duty is equal to our 
opportunity, and that we are bound to labour for the 
conversion of every sinner for whose conversion we 
have an opportunity of labouring. 

I know that this general principle will assign a 
large sphere to every christian. It may be asked with 
surprise and incredulity, ' Am I really bound to in- 
struct, and persuade, and try to save every person for 
whom, if I were disposed, I might make such efforts 
of kindness 1 I might make such endeavours, certainly, 
in many cases ; but is it to be said I must ? May I not 
also leave them alone, or make them where I choose V 

Far be it from me to put even the best of principles 
to an unreasonable stretch, or to introduce any princi- 
ple which is not of unquestionable rectitude. I beg it 
may be considered, however, whether the rule I have 
laid down, that obligation is commensurate with* 
opportunity, does not run through the whole of God's 
requirements and of our duty. In whatever respect 
our Maker requires any thing of us, he requires all 
that we have. He has produced nothing for waste ; 



THE FIELD OF LABOUR. 9 

and every thing which he bestows upon us, including 
certainly opportunities of usefulness, he commits to 
our trust as stewards of his manifold kindness. The 
wasting of any portion of our master's goods, though 
less wicked than the profligate squandering of them 
all, is nevertheless criminal, and in exact proportion 
to the quantity fruitlessly consumed. 

Or if we regard the exercise of bevolence towards 
men, the same rule will be found to obtain. What 
distressed persons are we bound to relieve ! All, cer- 
tainly, whom we have the opportunity of relieving. 
If there were a number of persons perishing with hun- 
ger, and you possessed both food for their supply, and 
a facility of conveying it to them, how many of them 
would you deem it your duty to feed 1 Would you 
acknowledge an obligation to present bread to half or 
three-fourths of them, and then say respecting the re- 
mainder, I may feed them or not as I please 1 Would 
you feel justified in passing any one by, and, when his 
necessities were pleaded before you (the opportunity 
still being in your possession) in saying, .'lam not 
bound to relieve him]' If not bound to relieve this 
sufferer, under what obligation have you been to 
relieve any, or upon what ground has the selection 
been made] Illustrations of this kind might be ad- 
duced to any extent ; but it must be evident, I con- 
ceive, that the obligation of benevolent exertion, if it 
be admitted to have any existence at all, arises out of 
the opportunity, and of course must be commensurate 
with it. The rule cannot but apply with equal cer- 
tainty, and with much greater force, to efforts of spi- 
ritual kindness. If he is a hard-hearted person, who, 
with an opportunity of saving any man's life, makes no 



10 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

exertion, yet more hard-hearted is he, who, with an 
opportunity of snatching a sinner as a brand from tne 
burning, does not employ it for his rescue. 

If. however, any one objects to the rule that our ob- 
ligation to make eiiorts for the conversion of sinners, 
is as extensive as our opportunity of doing so, I only 
ask for some other principle applicable to the case. 
For myself, I confess that I know of no other. If we 
are not bound thus to act whenever we have an oppor- 
tunity of acting, our own discretion must be called in 
to select the seasons when we shall be inert. To what 
extent is this discretion to be carried ? If I may choose 
not to act upon one occasion, so I may likewise upon 
another, and upon another, until upon every occasion 
I have exercised that allowable and convenient discre- 
tion, and have thus obtained a sanction for not acting 
at all. 

Let it be remembered, therefore, that unless any 
thing remains to be justly objected to it, the co-exten- 
siveness of opportunity and obligation is the rule by 
which our field of labour is to be determined. Where 
we have not opportunity, of course we are under no 
obligation to act : where we have, we have no justifi- 
cation for sloth. Neither youth nor age, nor wealth 
nor poverty, nor learning, nor ignorance, nor vice nor 
amiableness, nor nearness nor distance, nor any other 
circumstance, can release us from the obligation of 
improving whatever opportunities we possess for pro- 
moting the spiritual welfare of our kind. In taking a 
survey of our sphere of action according to this princi- 
ple, our business is to enquire. Towards what persons 
have I an opportunity of employing means of religious 
benefit ! All these are comprehended in our field of 
labour. 



THE FIELD OF LABOUR. 11 

(2.) The field of labour may be contemplated to 
some extent in its details. Not that it may be possible 
to describe minutely the sphere actually open to any 
individual, or that it would be desirable to do so; but 
the general scope of our duty is readily divisible into 
smaller departments, of which it may not be unim- 
portant to take a passing notice. 

There is, first, the domestic circle ; which presents 
the most obvious and most important facilities for the 
conversion of those who are as yet strangers to God. 
A pious person cannot be in any station in such a 
circle without having opportunities, more or less abun- 
dant, of promoting their spiritual benefit. Though 
parents have naturally the amplest influence, that 
possessed by the younger members of the family is 
still large, nor is that which pertains to servants by 
any means inconsiderable. 

Next may be mentioned the neighbourhood ; in- 
cluding those who reside either in immediate contact 
with us, or within that sphere of kindly intercourse 
which in many cases is, and in all cases might be, 
maintained with those around us, It may seem 
rude, or hazardous, or uncharitable, to interfere with 
them on matters of religion ; nor will I advocate for 
a moment any measures which may be really impro- 
per or unwise : but I cannot help suggesting the pro- 
bability that something may be done without any im- 
propriety, and the obligation that any thing which can 
be done short of impropriety ought to be done. A 
kindly intercourse upon general subjects, perhaps an 
interchange of offices of kindness, commonly exists 
in a neighbourhood, and clearly presents an opportu- 
nity of conveying religious benefit which ought not to 



12 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

be overlooked. Our reluctance to such efforts may 
too justly be traced to our slender appreciation of 
eternal things. If any of our neighbours were in 
temporal distress, we should inquire after their wel- 
fare, and make offers of assistance ; and why is it that 
similar interest is not shewn in reference to spiritual 
and eternal sorrows, but because we do not feel in 
this respect a proportionate anxiety ? For myself, I 
must avow my conviction that the mere fact of neigh- 
bourhood constitutes both an opportunity and an obli- 
gation to efforts for conversion. I ought no more to live 
next door to a man who is going to hell, and not try 
to save his soul, than I ought to see his house on fire, 
and not endeavour to rescue his life. 

A third department in the field of pious labour is 
that of friendship, with the wider circle of general 
acquaintance. The opportunity of bringing religious 
truth under consideration in these circumstances is ob- 
vious ; and in the case of intimate friendship, the effort 
may be seconded by influences of the most favourable 
and most powerful kind. 

Another portion of our sphere of action is opened to 
us by religious connexion. While this associates us 
with some persons of piety, it brings us into contact 
with some also of a contrary kind. Very few families, 
and no congregational bodies, are found altogether 
devoted to the Lord. To those who are thus brought 
within our influence, we should endeavour to be use- 
ful ; and the more so, because it is particularly as 
professors of religion that we are known by them. In 
every effort of pious labour, therefore, according to 
our ability, we should take a part, if without obtru- 
siveness on the one hand, without backwardness on 



THE FIELD OF LABOUR. 13 

the other. The Sunday-school, the Christian Instruc- 
tion Society, the Sick Man's Friend, the Village 
Preaching Association, and whatever else may be in 
action for the good of souls, should be promptly aided 
by every one according to his opportunity, for oppor- 
tunity creates an obligation. 

The stranger must likewise be included within 
our sphere of devout endeavour, so far as he is brought 
within that of ou*r influence. With almost number- 
less persons to whom this name may be applied, we 
have an occasional or casual converse, either through 
calls of business, through intercourse with the world, 
through applications for charity, or the accidents of 
relaxation or travelling. Far as I am from urging an 
indiscreet or invariable introduction of religion, it can- 
not be denied that casual conversation, if carefully 
watched, w T ould afford at least some, if not many, 
opportunities of useful endeavour. Why may not an 
effort be made to save the soul of the poor creature 
who, half-naked or starving, importunes, and perhaps 
receives, your bounty for his body ! Why may we 
not keep in mind the profit of persons with whom we 
fall in upon a walk, or are associated in a stage coach 1 
Why may we not try to substitute for frequent and 
sometimes long conversations about the weather, or 
politics, or the passing concerns of the day, something 
of serious and beneficial bearing] It is unquestionable 
that many such things might be done, without any 
breach of christian wisdom; and if so, then they ought 
to be done. 

Finally, the distance ought not to be excluded from 
our regard. We have much intercourse with those 
who are far removed from us ; and the opportunities 



14 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

thus afforded are of no trifling value. Perhaps we 
have relations hitherto far from God, who, as relations, 
are easily accessible to our serious counsel; perhaps 
we maintain a correspondence of friendship with simi- 
lar persons, any letter to whom may be directed to 
their spiritual good ; and with respect to letters of an 
ordinary kind, with whatever obvious exceptions, un- 
questionably many of them might easily and most 
properly be imbued with profitable sentiment. Now, 
what can be done ought to be done. The opportunity 
and the obligation are one. 

Perhaps, on individual application of these remarks, 
you will not find your own field of labour partaking of 
all these departments, or of ail of them equally ; but 
the hints I have thrown out may guide your inquiry, 
and assist you to ascertain what its just limits really 
are. 

2. After the e xte a t of your field of labour, your inquiry 
should be directed to Us condition. You will thus 
learn what occasion it presents for your exertions, and 
of what kind those exeitions should be. 

Here it will be your mam object to ascertain as 
nearly as you can, which of the persons within the 
sphere of your influence, are in a state of irreligion ; 
an inquiry of some delicay, indeed, but of obvious ne- 
cessity, and of no injuriousness or impropriety. If you 
are met by the question, how can you judge the heart, 
your reply may be, that you do not judge the heart 
any further than its quality is manifest in the life. 
Our Lord has taught us that human character maybe 
known, like a tree, by its traits ; so far therefore as 
these can be observed, a just foundation is laid for an 
estimate even of the heart itself; where they cannot 



THE FIELD OF LABOUR. 15 

be observed, you form no estimate at all. If again 
you are asked, how you can presume to call others to 
your bar, you may answer, that you do not call any 
man to your bar. Your opinion is formed, not for the 
purposes of judgment, but of mercy ; not to pronounce 
condemnation, but to lead to pardon. It is formed, 
not to be proclaimed to others, but to be expressed in 
earnest kindness to themselves. Neitheir is it for the 
most part any such matter of difficulty to form an esti- 
mate of character, as these questions seem to imply. 
In a deplorable number of instances the conduct of 
men puts doubt immediately to flight, and renders it 
manifest beyond all question that they are without 
God, and therefore without hope in the world. 

In the estimate we thus form of character, though 
we should not be harsh, we should above all things be 
faithful. In this respect there is a wide difference be- 
tween the manner in which we should speak of per- 
sons, and that in which we may think of them, espe- 
cially when taking measuers for their good. In the 
former case there is the utmost importance in express- 
ing what is commonlv called a charitable judgment, 
hoping and believing all things ; but in the latter, as 
an opinion erroneously unfavourable can do no injury, 
so it is far safer than erring on the opposite side. It 
is much better to be aiming at the conversion of a man 
who already loves the truth, than to be neglecting 
one under a mistaken notion of his piety. 

In order to an accurate estimate of character, we 
should beware of laying too great or exclusive a 
stress upon appearances. We should not regard im- 
morality as the only evidence of irreligion, nor steadi- 
ness and the forms of piety as certain tests of godliness. 



16 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

We should not be satisfied respecting the spiritual 
state of persons, merely because they are of unblame- 
able conduct, or regular attendants at a place of wor- 
ship. Much more than this is necessary to constitute 
real religion ; and it is too certain, that under such fair 
and pleasing appearances, there may exist a cherished 
enmity to God, and love of the world. Our inquiries 
should be directed to the detection of these latter 
evils, a task, if we know our own hearts, of no insupera- 
ble difficulty. The word of unerring truth furnishes 
us with numerous and decisive tests of varied and 
easy application for the discovery of latent iniquity ; 
while the new creation of divine grace is of a nature 
too blessed and influential to remain impenetrably con- 
cealed. 

When the condition of your field of labour is thus 
scrutinized, you will find it to present a mixed and va- 
ried aspect. Some, no doubt, will appear of decided 
and perhaps of eminent piety, but probably the few ; 
while the far greater number must be ranked among 
the enemies of God and their own souls. The fea- 
tures of irreligion, also, will probably vary much. 
Some, perhaps, you will perceive to be grossly vicious 
and profligate ; some in avowed infidelity ; some in 
deep ignorance ; some in daring impiety ; some con- 
sciously hopeless, and some with a false hope ; some 
the victims of delusion, of pride, of formality, of fancied 
virtue : and mingled with these, it may be, some 
conscieuce-stricken, trembling, and unhappy; some 
anxious and inquiring ; some broken-hearted and need- 
ing consolation. All these matters it is highly im- 
portant that you should distinctly and vividly set be- 
fore yourselves; not rapidly and superficially, as at a 



THE FIELD OF LABOUR. 17 

glance which leaves no abiding impression, bat dis- 
tinctly and vividly, that you may feel deeply and pei> 
manently what you have to do. Much of the impulse 
and direction of your exertions is to be derived from 
such a review. 

3. To the survey of the general condition of your 
field of labour should be added a contemplation of its 
peculiarities. For though there is a general similarity 
in the circumstances of mankind, yet every man's con- 
dition has some peculiar features, by which it may be 
distinguished from that of every other man. It is so 
with our spheres of usefulness ; and much of the com- 
pleteness and wisdom with which we shall occupy 
them, depends upon the correctness with which we 
estimate their distinctive features and the carefulness 
with which we regard them. 

Some peculiarities arise from our own condition, 
and others from that of those by whom we are sur- 
rounded. Perhaps we may be so situated as to form a 
part of no domestic circle ; or if we do, we may oc- 
cupy the station of a parent, a child, or a servant. In 
matters of neighbourhood, or general intercourse, and 
in relation to all other methods of usefulness, our ef- 
forts may be modified according as we may be of either 
sex, in youth or in age, in the higher or in the lower 
walks of life, at our own command or under the au- 
thority of others. A regard to these things is highly 
necessary, in order to know w T hat we may do and what 
we may not do, and to direct as well as to open our 
path. 

Those among whom we are to employ ourselves, in 
like manner, may give to our station a characteristic 
aspect. We may be conversant chiefly among the 
c* 



18 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN, 

lower classes, or we may have an extensive access to 
the higher. We may be in a family where we stand 
singly amidst ungodly relations ; or we may be one of 
several pious members of a family trained up for God. 
We may be in a neighbourhood peculiarly abounding in 
profanity and vice ; or we may dwell where order and 
decorum are eminently observed. We may encounter 
resentment and opposition, or we may find a ready and 
welcome access. Infinitely multiplied as these di- 
versities may be, they are all of them instructive, and 
they ought to be influential. They require from us a 
special preparation of mind, and corresponding modes 
of exertion ; and much of our usefulness will depend 
upon the adaptation in both respects which we can 
succeed in acquiring to the specific circumstances of 
the case. 

Having thus set before you, dear brethren, the im- 
portance of making an attentive survey of your field 
of labour, and the points to which it should be direct- 
ed, I now earnestly commend you to the task. Per- 
haps you have never made such an attempt; or if you 
have, you have never carried it to a proper complete- 
ness. As now presented to you, perhaps, it appears a 
great and difficult undertaking ; but be assured you 
will not find it so. I know, indeed, that it will require 
more than a superficial and momentary attention, and 
that it cannot be effected amidst the hurry and din of 
busy life. It will take you to your chamber ; but you 
ought not to be unwilling to go there. If you will be 
an active christian, you must be there often and long. 
Go then, dear brethren, and spend but one hour in 
the survey of your field of labour, and all difficulties 
will vanish before you. Commence your endeavour 



THE FIELD OF LABOUR. 19 

with an humble and fervent approach to God. Say, 
" Lord, thou hast bidden me exert myself for the con- 
version of sinners ; I am come to inquire of thee what 
thou wilt have me to do." Implore the light and guid- 
ance of his Spirit ; and then enter diligently on your 
employment. If your thoughts wander, recall them ; 
if your heart slumbers, awaken it ; and persevere, till 
you have looked attentively at your sphere of action, in 
its extent, its condition, and its peculiarities. And when 
you have done so, be sure that you remember what it is 
that is before you. It is not a picture to be admired, 
or a landscape to be gazed upon ; but a space of ground 
to be cultivated. It is not a garden of pleasure, but a 
field of labour ; and a field of labour for you. Those 
in your family, in your neighbourhood, in your ac- 
quaintance, in your religious connexion, in your casual 
intercourse, in your distant correspondence, who are 
yet in the gall of bitterness and the bond of iniquity, 
are the persons whom you are called upon to instruct, 
to warn, and to persuade. I have been addressing you 
as persons stirred up and resolved in this respect to do 
your duty ; it will now be put to the test whether you 
are so or not. If your duty should appear more exten- 
sive and more onerous than it has ever done, if your 
feelings should still be but defectively prepared to ac- 
cord with such large demands upon your activity, do 
not at once shrink from the prospect and abandon the 
effort. The same considerations which have awakened 
you in part, and made you willing to undertake a 
measure of exertion, are adapted and adequate to 
overcome your remaining " lingerirlgs. Bring your 
heart nearer to the Saviour, and into fuller contempla- 
tion of eternal things. Ask yourself pointedly, whe- 



20 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

ther the exertion from which you shrink is more than 
the ruin of souls demands, or more than the love of 
Christ deserves ; and whether, since he has no motives 
of greater power to adduce than those which he has 
presented to you, he must at length look beyond you, 
for more faithful servants and more devoted friends, 
ere the labour shall be done. 



LECTURE II. 

ESTIMATING HIS RESOURCES, 



Psalm cxxvi. 6. 

Bearing precious seed. 

Have you, dear brethren, so far pursued your inten- 
tion of exemplifying the character set before you, that 
you have taken a serious and deliberate survey of your 
appropriate field of labour] Have you carefully in- 
quired what persons are within the legitimate sphere 
of your exertion for their spiritual good \ If you have 
done so, you have doubtless found their number very 
considerable, and perhaps much larger than you had 
peviously imagined. Instead of being, as you may have 
fancied, almost shut out from opportunities of useful- 
ness, you have probably found them rise and expand 
beneath your opening eye, till the voice of him who 
has summoned you to labour has seemed to say to you, 
Behold I have set before you an open door. 

You have not, I hope, cherished a spirit of refusal or 
of reluctance to enter upon the labour assigned to you. 
But in order to proceed either with wisdom or with 
success, it is important that you should understand the 
nature and extent of the means you possess for its pro- 
secution. To have surveyed the field you are to cul- 
tivate, and to have ascertained the measure of its bar- 
renness, is one thing ; it is another, and to the full as 
necessary, that you should thoroughly acquaint your- 
selves with the instruments at your command for the 



22 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

promotion of its fruitfulness. Without such an inqui- 
ry, you may remain in a great measure ignorant of 
your capacities for usefulness, while to a much greater 
extent you may overlook or underrate them ; and thus, 
like a man who, though he knows he has work to do, 
either thinks he has no tools, or does not recollect 
where they are placed, or is imperfectly acquainted 
with their use, you will be likely to attempt nothing, 
or to engage yourself in action either with an enfee- 
bling despondency, or with a perplexing sense of in- 
sufficiency, or with actual embarrassment and mistake. 
When you seriously look on the waste submitted to 
your care, it may perhaps seem to you as though you 
had no sufficient means for converting it into the gar- 
den of the Lord ; yet you may be assured that, if you 
are with any propriety called to apply yourself to its 
culture, the means are at hand. The call to labour 
would otherwise be absurd; and never could have 
issued, as we know it has issued, from the wise, the 
just, and the gracious God. That you may be imper- 
fectly acquainted with them, both as to their true na- 
ture and the extent to which you possess them, is high- 
ly probable ; and hence arises an additional reason for 
the inquiry I am recommending to you. Take the 
pains to see whether you are not, in the language of 
the text, "bearing precious seed," adapted to vegetate 
in the soil, however unpromising, and, under the di- 
vine blessing, secure of bringing forth the fruits of 
piety ; and, not to confine ourselves to this expression, 
but to take the whole range of illustration to which it 
leads, whether you have not the means of breaking up 
the fallow ground, and of ploughing in hope, that if 



HIS RESOURCES. 23 

your seed should be sown in tears, you shall neverthe- 
less reap in joy. 

On another occasion I have stated to you that the 
methods by which conversion of sinners may be pur- 
sued are either direct or indirect. The latter consists 
in the force of example, while the former comprehends 
all immediate appeals to the understanding and the 
heart. I will not here repeat what I have already 
urged on these topics in two former discourses.* I 
propose rather to suggest an inquiry in detail, what 
resources may be possessed by each of us respectively 
for pursuing these methods of activity with benefit 
and success. The subjects which will thus present 
themselves to our regard are, character, knowledge, 
talent, property, influence, and time. 

1. We observe, in the first place, that character, I 
mean of course pious character, forms one portion of 
our resources for the conversion of sinners. I call it 
so, because the exhibition of it in an exemplary man- 
ner is adapted to this end. A deep sense of duty, and 
a solemn impression of eternity ; humility and meek- 
ness ; love to God, and joy in his salvation ; likeness 
to Christ, and dedication to his glory ; all this, exhi- 
bited in our conduct, is fitted to instruct, to persuade, 
and to convert men. It carries to the heart a reproof 
of iniquity, and a conviction of the excellence of reli- 
gion, powerfully adapted to the production of good. It 
is, therefore, an instrument of conversion. It should 
be the aim of all who possess piety, not merely to cul- 
tivate it for their own sake, but to manifest it for the 
benefit of others; according to those words of our 
Lord, " Let your light shine before men ; and so shine, 

+ Individual Efforts, Lectures 9 &c 10. 



24 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

that they, seeing your good works, may glorify your 
Father who is in heaven." 

In estimating your resources for the conversion of 
sinners, then, you should enquire whether, and to what 
extent, you possess a substantial piety. It is, of course, 
to be assumed, that to some extent you do so ; inasmuch 
as your desire to become an active christian implies 
that you are previously a christian indeed. Now even 
if your attainments in religion should be small, as per- 
haps they are, you should remember that the posses- 
sion of the least portion of it yourself confers upon you 
a capacity for inducing it in others. Whatever you 
have of real religion, be it ever so little, so much you 
have of means for the conversion of sinners. 

This observation obviously acquires greater force, 
in proportion to the strength and eminence of piety. 
If, by a deep work of grace, by a long experience, by 
a near walk with God, by abundant privileges, by nu- 
merous trials, or by any other means, our character 
have been matured, and our graces rendered strong, 
our example is, in these respects, so much the more 
fitted to instruct and attract the ungodly ; and what- 
ever we may have attained of christian lowliness, or 
spirituality, or joy, or submissiveness, these treasures 
fit us to enrich others, while they actually enrich our- 
selves. They augment our resources for the conver- 
sion of sinners. Let us, therefore, faithfully ask our- 
selves, not for the purposes of pride or self-gratulation r 
but for the sake of justly estimating our means of use- 
fulness, what the state of our character is ; and what- 
ever we may find reason to acknowledge, with ador- 
ing gratitude, that God has wrought in us, let us 



HIS RESOURCES. 25 

charge ourselves to remember that it is all to be em- 
ployed for him. 

It is the more needful to impress ourselves deeply 
with this obligation, because it is with peculiar facility 
kept out of sight. To be christian^ and to cultivate 
sedulously the graces of the Spirit, we may readily ac- 
knowledge to be our duty ; but there if might natural- 
ly seem that our duty, in this respect, has its termina- 
tion ; more especially with regard to those more expe- 
rimental and more mellow exercises of joy or of pa- 
tience, the great end of which we may conceive to be 
the comfort of our own souls. Such an idea, though 
not unnatural, is decidedly wrong. . These things fit 
us, likewise, for a beneficial exemplification of reli- 
gion in the eyes of the ungodly, and should sacredly 
be regarded as enlarging our means for their con- 
version. 

2. Secondly, knoioledge constitutes another portion 
of our resources for the conversion of sinners ; know- 
ledge, that is to say, cf divine truth and the way of 
salvation. . This is the direct means of conversion in 
every case, and is the very element with which it is 
above all things important to imbue the minds of those 
who remain yet unconverted. Whatever is known, 
therefore, on this subject, is directly fitted, by its com- 
munication, to accomplish the object in view. 

It behoves us to ask ourselves, therefore, whether 
we have any knowledge of divine things : if we have, 
it confers upon us a proportionate capacity for the 
, turning of sinners unto God. Now, when persons are 
pressed to communicate religious knowledge, it is com- 
mon to hear them say, ' I am no scholar,' or ' I have 

D 



26 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

no learning" ;' and this seems to be intended as an ex- 
cuse for their neglect. Whether such a representa- 
tion be more or less true, it obviously cannot answer 
the purpose for which it is adduced. The question is 
not whether you have any learning, but whether you 
have any knowledge ; any knowledge of God, or of 
your duty to him ; of your own transgressions against 
your Maker, and your inward corruption in his sight; 
of your soul's value and danger, and the method of 
escape from the wrath to come. If you have not a 
knowledge of these things, how are you a' christian ! 
And if you have, why can you not impart it ? What 
foreign language does it require that you should learn ! 
What science is it needful you should attain \ The 
truth is, that you possess that which alone is neces- 
sary, and is above all things calculated, to fit you for 
the very effort from which you shrink, namely, an ex- 
perimental acquaintance with Christ. Of what ser- 
vice would the classics or philosophy be to you in this 
respect, if you had not this ! And since you have, in 
what manner does the want of them obstruct your say- 
ing, Behold the way to God ! Knowing what is adapt- 
ed to your own salvation, you know also what is adapt- 
ed to the salvation of others ; and if you be the most 
ignorant of christians, you have knowledge enough for 
the conversion of the world. 

It is obvious to observe here, that our resources 
for the conversion of sinners are augmented in exact 
proportion as our knowledge is increased. Some chris- 
tians have acquired an enlarged experience ; some, 
possess a more extended acquaintance with the word 
of God ; some have familiarized themselves with the 



HIS RESOURCES. 27 

controversies which relate to the doctrines or the 
evidences of Christianity. Now in whatever direction, 
and to whatever extent, our knowledge may be en- 
larged, the whole of it is to be ranked among oar 
means of doing spiritual good. It should not be con- 
fined to our own breasts, whatever may be the satis- 
faction or the benefit we may derive from it ; but, 
like a light in darkness, it should be made subservient 
to the advantage of others as well as to our own. We 
can scarcely fail to be thrown among persons to whom 
the knowledge we possess may be suitable and im- 
portant; and, in all methods, it should be our aim to 
be communicating it. In a contrary course we shall 
resemble the husbandman who would hoard the seed 
which he ought to have scattered over the ground ; or 
the traveller who should have concealed the light by 
which his companions in a perilous way might have 
been saved from destruction. 

3. Thirdly, we have placed talent among our re- 
sources for the conversion of sinners ; not, however, 
intending by this term exclusively the more splendid 
endowments sometimes bestowed upon mankind, by a 
beneficent creator. 

It is obvious that a capacity of communicating what 
we know to others, is a capacity likewise of rendering 
it subservient to their good ; and in proportion to the 
facility and the persuasiveness with which this can be 
done, our means of promoting the welfare of others 
are increased. Whoever has the power of presenting 
to his fellow-sinners the things which belong to their 
peace, in an instructive, convincing, and persuasive 
form, is in possession of an important instrument for 
their conversion. 



28 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

Every one of you should inquire therefore, with 
what portion of the gift of utterance has God endowed 
you. Whether it be little or much, according to its 
exact quantity it endows you with resources for the 
salvation of men. 

You will, perhaps, be ready to acknowledge, as a 
general truth, that those who have a talent for speak- 
ing should employ it for God ; but you will be equally 
ready, it may be, to withdraw yourselves from this 
highly privileged class. i If I had talent, I would 
endeavour to use it ; but I really have no talent, and 
my attempting to communicate religious instruction is 
quite out of the question.' It is an amiable piece of 
modesty to say that we have no talent, though I be- 
lieve it is said by much the most freely, when the 
duty of doing good is connected with it. Even if it 
were absolutely true, I do not know any thing else 
besides the doing of good which is so exclusively left 
to the more talented portion of the community. No- 
body is willing that persons of superior talents should 
be the only rich, or the only honourable, or the only 
successful people in the world ; on the contrary, every 
one strives for his portion in these respects ; and this 
renders it very suspicious when the plea of no talent 
is adduced in bar of activity for God. 

Without being tenacious on this point, however, 
and without wishing to persuade any person that he 
has more talent than he may acknowledge, I am 
ready to take the lowest ground, and to suppose my- 
self addressing a pious man who has nothing more 
than the ordinary gift of speech. This itself consti- 
tutes a talent for the conversion of sinners. Any per- 
son who can make himself understood on matters of 



HIS RESOURCES. 29 

common life, and can give intelligible utterance to 
ordinary emotions, is capable of expressing himself 
beneficially on subjects of eternal concern. The com- 
munication of religious knowledge, though it may be 
rendered more easy by the possession of eloquent gifts, 
is by no means dependent upon them. Uttered in the 
most homely phrases, or by the most stammering 
tongue, the truth of God is still itself, and is both 
adapted and adequate to accomplish its design. Every 
christian who is not dumb, has a talent for conversion. 
I am not concerned to say that it is a large talent. 
On the contrary, it may be very small ; but to say 
that it is small is nothing to the purpose, when the 
burden of our exhortation is that, however small, it 
ought to be employed. To say that we have no talent, 
is to utter a manifest untruth ; either overlooking in 
fact, or neglecting on purpose, an undeniable measure 
of capacity for useful exertion. 

It may be added, that a peculiar adaptation to use- 
fulness attaches to the very persons who might with 
most plausibility maintain that they have no talent for 
conveying religious instruction. We always under- 
stand those most readily, whose language and habits 
of thinking bear a resemblance to our own. When 
this is not the case in a considerable degree, the at- 
tempt to communicate knowledge is inevitably in some 
measure impeded, and very often partially frustrated. 
For this reason a considerable portion of ministerial la- 
bour is lost, especially upon the less informed part of 
our congregations ; for the same reason the conversa- 
tion of more talented persons is, and must be, of infe- 
rior efficiency with the same class, because it is, and 
with every effort to remedy the evil, will still be, in 



30 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

a measure, unadapted to their comprehension. The 
humbler portion of society are far the most easily and 
effectually instructed by persons of their own order, 
whose manner of expression they at once understand, 
whose line of thought accords nearly with their own, 
and whose illustrations are drawn from sources with 
which they are familiar. So far, therefore, from our 
untalented friends having no fitness to labour for the 
conversion of sinners, their fitness is pre-eminent above 
that of all other persons, for usefulness to those in the 
same walks of life with themselves. If they should 
(as is sometimes the case,) request a minister, or some 
other supposed more qualified person, to call upon a 
neighbour, the probability, and almost the certainty is, 
that their own conversation will prove the more ac- 
ceptable and beneficial of the two. The mistake I am 
combating, thus appears to be one of a peculiarly mis- 
chievous character, inasmuch as it not only keeps out 
of the field some labourers, but those best adapted for 
a very large portion of the work to be done. I charge 
it upon you therefore, dear friends, even the least in- 
formed and the least capable among you, to remember 
that you are not without a talent for instruction, and 
one which you have probably never duly appreciated. 
It may not be large enough to exalt you in compari- 
son with your fellow men ; but it is decidedly suffi- 
cient to fit you for usefulness. 

To advert to a different class of persons. It would 
be amusing, if it were not too painful, to observe, 
among those who plead that they have no talent for 
religious conversation, many whose talent for conversa- 
tion of almost any other kind admits of no question. 
'We cannot talk upon religion.' Astonishing ! when 



HIS RESOURCES. 31 

you can talk so rapidly and so well upon almost any 
thing" else. You are afflicted with no hesitation in 
the chit-chat of familiar acquaintance, in general con- 
versation with strangers, in settling matters of busi- 
ness, in discussing politics, or in discoursing of the 
sciences ; but you cannot talk upon religion ! There 
is something in that subject that makes your voice 
falter, and absolutely chokes your utterance ! Ought 
not any person of common understanding to be ashamed 
of such a mere subterfuge from the sense of obligation, 
and the call to duty I 

There are some, however, who must be conscious, 
and who would acknowledge, that their Maker has 
endowed them with larger powers of apprehending 
and exhibiting truth, or with more eminent aptitude 
for analazying the character and reaching the heart of 
man. Scattered among the body of sincere christians, 
there may certainly be found the power of luminous 
instruction, of convincing argument, of humbling re- 
proof, of persuasive importunity ; some persons surely 
mast know that they possess a measure, perhaps an 
eminent measure of these gifts ; and what an immense 
accumulation of instrumentality for conversion is thus 
produced! These are the powers which move the 
world. They throw light upon the blind eyes, and 
arouse the dormant passions of mankind. They give 
force to errors, and work up the hearts of men to fu- 
rious mischief. Equally adapted are they to give force 
to truth, and to subdue the proud and turbulent spirit 
to submission to the Saviour. Every man who has in 
his hands any share of this instrumentality, is propor- 
tionately rich in resources for the conversion of his 
perishing fellow-mortals. 



32 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

4. We have spoken of property, in the fourth place, 
as a part of our resources for the conversion of sinners. 
It is not that we attach any value, however, to such 
misnamed religion as may be purchased with money. 
The tribes of hypocrites who seem devout for the sake 
of the benefits which may recompense their fraud, or 
who show their sanctimonious faces at a place of wor- 
ship in order to link themselves with the charities and 
benefactions attached to it, cannot be looked upon 
without melancholy and loathing ; nor can such an 
employment of money, whether covert or open, be con- 
templated without deep regret. The intention of the 
donor may be kind, but the effect of his gift is always 
mischievous. Neither do I now mean to advert to the 
power of wealth to advance Christianity by supporting 
the various societies which are in operation, more or 
less effectively, for this end. Such subscriptions, what- 
ever be their value, most unhappily separate the 
apparent suppoi t of the cause of Christ from the exer- 
cise of individual exertion, and have had a most in- 
jurious effect upon the christian world at large, by pre- 
senting a plausible and acceptable apology for its 
neglect. The use of property to which I now refer, as 
holding a place among individual efforts for the con- 
version of sinners, lies in the diffusion of religious 
knowledge, by giving or lending copies of the sacred 
scriptures, together with tracts and more considerable 
publications. The value and importance of such a 
mode of exertion are obvious. It is well known that 
many more persons can now read than at any former 
period ; that multitudes in the lower classes are very 
defectively supplied with materials for satisfying this 
appetite of the mind ; that the food they seek is too 



HIS RESOURCES. 33 

often of the pernicious rather than the salutary kind ; 
and that works of frivolity, obscenity, and irreligion, 
are freely circulated, and almost thrust into their hands. 
It is ascertained, moreover, that the loan of tracts has, 
to a great extent, excited or discovered a thirst for 
more beneficial reading, and necessitated the establish- 
ment of lending libraries. Those who employ them- 
selves in actual endeavours of instruction, speedily find, 
also, how important it is to induce persons with whom 
they converse to read upon the same subjects ; and so, 
by bringing an additional power to bear upon igno- 
rance and vice, to aid and prolong the efforts of their 
lips. The wide dispersion of tracts and small religious 
books has, in fact, been productive of immense advan- 
tages ; and it is a method of usefulness which every 
one, who has it in his power, should pursue. What is 
in our power in this respect ] A supply of tracts for 
distribution may be maintained at a very small ex- 
pense, so that scarcely any person need be denied this 
privilege ; and there must certainly be many by whom 
this method of useful activity might be carried person- 
ally to a very considerable extent. I say personally, 
because nothing else comes up to my meaning ; and I 
deem it important that this kind of effort should not 
supersede, but, as far as possible, be associated with 
those of direct conversation. 

5. The next portion of our resources for the con- 
version of sinners consists in influence. Every mea- 
sure of influence, though the smallest imaginable, 
has a manifest adaptation to the conversion of sinners. 
It may in any case be employed to gain attention to 
instruction, to induce a habit of consideration, to 
engage a perusal of the word of God, or of other pro- 



34 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

fitable books, or to procure an abandonment of evil 
company, and an attendance on divine worship. In 
many instances it may be carried much further, as 
may appear from a passing* glance at the different 
circumstances in which it may be exercised. 

The influence of mere neighbourhood is not small, 
especially where an interchange of kind offices is 
kept up. That of a familiar acquaintance is yet 
greater. Many things are done at the request, or at 
the recommendation, or even at the suggestion of a 
companion. Still stronger than this is the influence 
of intimate friendship. Besides the opportunity which 
is thus afforded for direct and unrestrained fidelity, 
there arise from such a state some topics of very ten- 
der and powerful appeal. To the parental relation 
pertains influence of yet increasing power, especially 
if associated with a wisely cultivated affection. Pa- 
rental instruction, reproof, and entreaty, have a force 
which nothing can exceed, which perhaps nothing" 
can equal. The complete possession which may be 
taken of the understanding, the authority with which 
the manifestations of evil may be rebuked and re- 
strained, and the tenderness which may be thrown 
into appeals to the heart, are invaluable facilities for 
the work of conversion. Many a child who has been 
obstinate under every other consideration, has been 
melted to tears by the question, Shall we be separated 
for ever 1 The influence of the head of a family or an es- 
tablishment extends also, with no inconsiderable force, 
over all its members. His instructions and counsels 
are of greater weight than those of other persons ; 
while it is often in his power, without infringing on 
personal freedom, to restrain as well as to reprove the 



HIS RESOURCES. 35 

commission of iniquity. When persons hold a station 
of greater publicity, a corresponding extension of 
their influence is conferred. Their example then 
becomes more conspicuous, their recommendations 
more approaching to the authoritative. Here, however, 
it is needful to be especially cautious. The influence 
of public station and office has too often been exerted 
on a principle of interest, or of constraint, rather tend- 
ing to obstruct than to promote a just exercise of the 
understanding, or an appeal to the conscience and the 
heart ; an undue influence which cannot be too much 
regretted, but against which it is perhaps very difficult 
to be sufficiently on our guard. 

In the endless diversity of circumstances, it behoves 
each of us to enquire what influence pertains to us ; 
and to reckon it all among our resources for the conver- 
sion of sinners. This is a means of operation of which 
no person can be entirely destitute. It necessarily 
arises out of the relations and circumstances of life, 
according to which indeed it may vary, but in no 
case can it be entirely wanting. A person who should 
imagine that he could exert no influence on religious 
subjects, need only be reminded of that which he 
knows he could exert upon general ones. There are 
certainly some persons who would oblige you at your 
request, at least in a way which put them to no trouble; 
and there are probably more who, at your importunity, 
would be willing to benefit themselves. You would 
not despair of inducing a sick neighbour to accept me- 
dical advice, especially if offered gratuitously, or the 
distressed to allow you to minister to their relief. 
What could be your meaning, therefore, if you should 
say you have no influence ! It could mean only, what. 



36 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

I hope you do not mean, that you are not disposed to 
employ your influence for men's eternal welfare. I 
cannot be content, however, with maintaining the 
fact that you have some influence. I must urge you 
to examine the various aspects of your station in society, 
and to bring before yourselves all the influence which 
may arise from them. No part of it should be over- 
looked, when you are searching after means for the 
conversion of men. 

6. Finally, an important part of our resources con- 
sists in time. Though many efforts to convert sinners 
may be made without any peculiar appropriation ©f 
time, yet there are others to which time is necessary, 
and an attention to which can be enlarged in propor- 
tion as leisure is enjoyed. Time, therefore, whatever 
portion of it may be available in our case for such oc- 
cupations, is clearly to be considered as augmenting 
our means of useful activity. 

What then are our circumstances in this respect 7 
Though there are obviously some persons of great 
leisure, many of you perhaps are ready to say, 'I 
would exert myself if I had time, but I really have no 
time.' It is scarcely conceivable that any case can 
exist in which this can be strictly true. Even the 
busiest persons find time for almost every thing which 
they deem interesting or important. That we can 
fli*l other things to do, and that we are actually bu- 
sily employed, may probably be the fact ; but it will be 
difficult for any man to show that he could devote no 
time to the salvation of his neighbour, if he thought 
proper to do so. For purposes far less important than 
this, labourers will work over-hours, tradesmen will 
contrive means of leaving their shops under the care 



HIS RESOURCES. 37 

of others, and persons who are employed all the day 
will sit up a part of the night ; so that, even with the 
really busy, the plea of want of time is only a cover 
for the want of heart. But with how many people is 
life in great part a busy idleness ! Always doing some- 
thing, indeed ; but what ? Things which are not worth 
the doing perhaps, and which, at all events, it is not 
at all necessary to do. Supposing many occupations 
to be innocent, and even laudable, in comparison with 
endeavours to save sinners they are clearly light and 
unimportant. Let any observer of the world, and of 
the christians who are scattered in it, reckon up the 
hours which are spent in frivolous conversation, in 
works of taste, in calls of ceremony, hi long and unpro- 
fitable visits, in scenes of relaxation and amusement, 
and then let him say what an immense portion of 
the resources available for the conversion of men is 
absolutely squandered and lost. 

I press it, therefore, upon those of you who might, 
with the greatest apparent justice, affirm that you 
have no time to strive with men for their salvation, 
to re-examine this plea with an honest mind. Are 
you sure that you are even so busy as you suppose 
yourselves to be? Are there no considerable frag- 
ments of time actually unemployed, which are at pre- 
sent overlooked, but which might be brought to light 
by a diligent search? Are none of your occupations so 
light and immaterial that you might easily withdraw 
a portion of the time which is now devoted to them ? 
Have you not some leisure in an evening ? Might 
you not spend less time in light reading ? Might not 
the hours allowed to company be abridged? Could 
you not sometimes rescue half an hour from business, 

E 



38 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

or sometimes from sleep? If in point of fact any thing 
were proposed to you which you felt to be interesting 
or important, would you not find time for it'1 Would 
you imagine that you had no time to save a man that 
was drowning, or to extinguish a fire in your neigh- 
bour's habitation'? I cannot conceal my conviction 
that an estimate of time for any object is but an esti- 
mate of the importance of the object itself; and that 
no man who realises the value of souls will find him- 
self without time to save them. Remember, there- 
fore, dear friends, that whatever time might, under a 
due sense of your obligation, be applied to this pur- 
pose, forms a part of your resources for it, the very 
resources after which we are inquiring. 

Sume of you are persons of manifest and acknow- 
ledged leisure. With much time at your own com- 
mand, you are rich in resources for conversion. To 
what a considerable extent may you be employed in 
instructing the ignorant, in reclaiming the vicious, in 
guiding the disconsolate to the Saviour ! Every hour 
which the duties of your station do not demand, aug- 
ments your capacity for the salvation of the lost. 

Having thus exhibited to you, dear brethren, the 
directions in which our resources for the conversion of 
sinners are to be found, allow me to remind you that 
I have done so upon the supposition of your being 
desirous to find them. I have taken it for granted 
that you feel the importance of cultivating the field 
which is before you, and that you wished to know 
what means of doing so were in your possession. I 
should be sorry if this discourse should make upon you 
such an impression- as to show that I have been in 
error. Have you felt rather unhappy than otherwise, 



HIS RESOURCES. 39 

to learn that your resources for the coversion of sin- 
ners are so ample 7 Did you really cherish the imagi- 
nation that you had few or no means of action, as com- 
fortably shielding you from the exhortation to labour 1 
Are you now indulging a querulous and half-captious 
spirit, ready to insist upon it that the view given 
of your resources cannot be a fair one 1 You ought 
to have received the hints which have been submitted 
to you in a very different spirit. It should have de- 
lighted you to discern that you have so many means of 
doing good. It shouid have made your heart leap for 
joy to know, that, with such a wilderness before you, 
you are bearing so much of the precious seed which is 
adapted to render it fruitful in righteousness. 

If you have received the suggestions I have pre- 
sented to you in any measure of such a spirit, you will 
not now dismiss them from your remembrance, but 
will rather carry them to your chambers, and make 
them matter of deliberate and serious examination. 
You will ask, What are my individual resources for 
the conversion of sinners 1 Permit me to give you one 
caution as to the manner in which you allow your- 
selves to answer this question. It may seem to be a 
departure from humility to estimate your own re- 
sources highly, more especially, perhaps, as to charac- 
ter, knowledge, talent, or influence. You may deem 
it only modesty to make, not only the lowest estimate 
you can, but one even lower than you can, with any 
sense of justice, adopt. You should remember, how- 
ever, that it is one thing to speak of our resources be- 
fore men, and another to estimate them before God ; it 
is one thing to survey them for purposes of com- 
placency and self-gratulation, and another to calculate 



40 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

their capacities for useful exertion. It is in the former 
case only, I believe, that we are apt to overrate them- 
in the latter our chief danger is on the opposite side. 
We run little hazard of over-estimating our responsi- 
bility ; while, on the contrary, the plausible and amia- 
ble pretext of humility may easily serve unjustly to 
reduce it. I do not wish you to think your means of 
usefulness larger than they are ; but if you are not 
careful, you will infallibly think them smaller than 
they are. Be resolved to estimate them justly, that, as 
stewards, you may be found faithful. 

Finally, when you have completed this inquiry, con- 
nect it with that which you have already made into 
your field of labour. Having first seen what you have 
to do, you now discern the instruments by which it is 
to be done. Remember, that these instruments are 
given you for work, and not for amusement, and for 
work in the precise field which you have recently sur- 
veyed. Be up and doing, therefore. In the morning 
sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thy 
hand : for he that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing 
precious seed, shall doubtless return again rejoicing, 
bringing his sheaves with him. 



LECTURE III. 

CULTIVATING FITNESS FOR LABOUR. 



Psalm li. 13. 

Then will I teach transgressors thy ways, and sinners 
shall be converted unto thee. 

The missionary accounts inform us of a Hottentot con- 
vert, who, for a time, absented himself from the exer- 
cises of christian instruction and fellowship. Being 
asked, upon his return, why he had done so, he said, 
in substance, that, having seen some of his brethren 
called to somewhat difficult efforts of usefulness, he 
had been afraid lest he should be thought fit for similar 
exertions. It may be apprehended that a measure of 
the same spirit, though not expressed with equal sim- 
plicity, exists among some professors who are not Hot- 
tentots. If we suspected that we did possess talents 
for extensive usefulness, how eager would some of us 
be to keep it a secret, almost from ourselves, lest the 
voice of our brethren, or that of our own consciences, 
should summon us to unwelcome labour ! On the other 
hand, what a comfortable thought it may be to others 
among us, that we really have no considerable talent 
for beneficial exertion, and, therefore, cannot be ex- 
pected to do much, if any thing, in that direction. How 
delightfully it lessens the weight with which the sense 
of duty and of conscientious obligation might otherwise 
bear upon us; and, by furnishing, if not a justification, 



42 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

yet a pretext for inaction, enables us to settle down 
into a state of undisturbed and imperturbable repose ! 

Now I do not wonder that any person who first sur- 
veys the field of labour which is before him, and sees 
how large it is, and how barren, and who then esti- 
mates with any measure of justice his resources for its 
cultivation, and sees how ample they are, and well 
adapted to the end, should be oppressed with a sense 
of his unfitness for the task. You yourselves, dear 
brethren, have probably already said, ' Who is suffi- 
cient for these things ? If I had the most powerful 
talents, the most eminent piety, the most profound wis- 
dom, they might all be employed in this field of la- 
bour. Nay, they are all wanted here ; and the share of 
them which I possess is so small as to convince me 
that I am disqualified for producing any considerable 
effect. With my little gifts, and graces, and skill, what 
can I do for such an object as the conversion of these 
sinners to God V 

I am neither surprised nor sorry that such a sense 
of your deficiencies has fallen upon you; I should have 
been both sorry and surprised if it had not been so. 
Neither do I wish to dispel the feelings which have 
arisen upon this subject, founded, as in a great measure 
they unquestionably are, in truth, and capable as they 
are of receiving a most salutary direction. All that I 
ask of you is to deal with them as active christians, 
and not as slothful ones. May I not hope that you 
will do this 1 Have you not been contending, and in 
some measure effectually, with the slothfulness of 
your own hearts ! And is it not as christians of an 
active spirit that you come hither to learn the practical 
methods of activity 1 



FITNESS FOR LABOUR. 43 

If it be so, I can without difficulty trace out the 
course you will pursue. In the first place, you will 
not suffer yourselves to suppose for a moment, that, 
however great your deficiencies may be, you are to- 
tally disqualified for action. Some fitness for pro- 
moting others' good you have, if you are a christian 
indeed; and this, however small, it is your duty and 
privilege immediately to employ. 

In the next place, you will not allow yourselves to 
judge of your own deficiencies hastily, or super- 
ficially: or, above all, with a loillingness to exag- 
gerate them. Far, on the one hand, from indulging a 
spirit of pride or complacency in your qualifications 
for usefulness, you will feel, on the other, the obliga- 
tion of estimating them with honesty and justice ; lest 
merely imaginary defects should lead to real and cri- 
minal negligence. There are few things which, when 
we are called upon to do them for the first time, we 
do not imagine that we cannot do. This objection is 
always answered by saying, ' Try ; you do not know 
what you can do till you try.' A person disposed to 
work never hesitates to follow this advice ; and if you 
are in the spirit of an active christian, you will never 
suffer yourselves to believe that you cannot labour for 
God, until you have tried and found that you cannot. 

In the third place, you will regard your ascertained 
deficiencies with deep and unfeigned sorrow. Instead 
of considering it as a comfort that your fitness for use- 
fulness is small, you will deem it an affliction, and 
will place it among the heaviest of your griefs. You 
will dwell upon the importance and excellency of the 
object which you have so little adaptation to attain. 
It is the saving of souls from death: an object of incal- 



44 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

culable interest, inasmuch as it involves the highest 
pleasures or the deepest pains of an eternal world. It 
has awakened the tender compassion of the whole 
Deity, and engaged the concurrent action of the Fa- 
ther, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. It has drawn per- 
suasion from the lips of the Saviour, tears from his 
eyes, and blood from his heart. It has awakened the 
sympathy of angels, and would have induced their 
willing exertions too, but that they are forbidden to 
employ them. It has engaged the deepest counsels of 
eternity past, and is to constitute the chief glory of 
eternity to come. And when you meditate on these 
topics, with grief you will say, ' Is it such an object 
that I am so little qualified to pursue ; an object in 
comparison -with which every thing else that can be 
done on earth dwindles into nothing T 

You will contemplate the peculiar relation w T hich, 
as a christian, you bear to the promotion of this end. 
You will recollect that your character is prepared for 
its attainment ; since, in order to shine in the world, 
you are first made light in the Lord, and since you 
are fully impregnated with the heavenly qualities 
which you are expected to diffuse. You will call to 
mind the obligation under which redeeming love has 
laid you, and the summons to labour which is so ur- 
gently and touchingly repeated by the voice of your 
dying and risen Lord; you will bear in memory 
the expectation which he has formed, both of your 
readiness to labour, and of the results of your en- 
deavours ; you will not forget that if you, as one 
of his disciples, are not qualified to serve him, 
no other persons can be expected to do so ; and musing 
upon these things, you will be ready to exclaim, 



FITNESS FOR LABOUR. 45 

* Woe is me, that my deficiencies are so great for the 
service of my Lord ! The worldly, the gay, the pro- 
fligate, the formal, will not, cannot labour for him; 
and I, whom he has ransomed by his blood, and trans- 
formed by his Spirit, whom he has fitted to be useful, 
and expects to be laborious, I am in a grievous mea- 
sure disqualified for exertion ! What then am I fit 
for ? Salt is good, if it have a savour ; but if not, it 
is good for nothing, but is cast out, trodden under foot 
of men. Is this my character] And am I really 
almost entirely wanting in that which constitutes the 
whole worth of a christian in the world ! 

You will bethink yourself, too, of the rich and ex- 
quisite delights by which endeavours for the conver- 
sion of sinners are recompensed. You know that the 
communication of benefits is always a luxury; and 
that this is the highest of all luxuries, because it is 
the greatest of all benefits. To save a soul from death 
is infinitely more than to clothe the naked, to feed the 
hungry, to liberate the captive, to rescue the dying. 
It is to snatch a brand out of the everlasting burnings, 
to lead the lost to the possession of immortal glory. 
Unutterable luxury on earth ! What will it be in hea- 
ven'? 'But for acquiring these pleasures,' you will 
say, ' I have very little fitness. My want of talent 
and courage, of consistency and skill, excludes me from 
these joys. I can attain only the inferior delights of 
piety, and can never know the ecstasy of leading sin- 
ners unto Jesus.' 

In the midst of such reflections, it will be impossi- 
ble for you to look upon your deficiency with compla- 
cency. Think with comfort that they disqualify you 
for pious labour ! What man finds any comfort in 



46 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

knowing that his ignorance or want of education un- 
fits him for rising in the world, or for improving the 
opportunities which are open to him of becoming rich 
and prosperous! And what christian, but one who 
loves his sloth and self-indulgence more than all that 
impels him to labour, can find comfort in his unfitness 
for exertion ? No, dear brethren, view it aright, and 
it will be your grief, a subject of perpetual and touch- 
ing lamentation. 

And this is not all. You loill, in the fourth place, 
entertain an earnest desire that your impediments to 
action may be removed. You will not sit down con- 
tented in so afflictive a situation. With important 
and interesting objects in view, men have shown an 
intense eagerness to possess themselves of the qualifi- 
cations necessary to their accomplishment ; and if you 
are truly awake to the value of the object before you, 
you will make restless inquiry whether the difficul- 
ties which surround you may not be overcome, and the 
deficiencies which obstruct you be supplied. Some- 
thing like this will be your language : ' Is there no 
way of augmenting my fitness for this blessed employ 1 
Must I remain so afflictingly disqualified to be active, 
useful, and happy 1 May I not become more exem- 
plary ] Can I not pursue the acquisition of wisdom 1 
May I not cultivate even defective talent? Will there 
be no recompense for diligent and vigorous endeavours 
like these V 

You will carry these inquiries to the throne of 
grace, and lay them before the Lord, with urgent im- 
portunity that he would open your lips and sanctify 
your heart ; combining your earnest supplication with 
the sacred purpose, ' Then will I teach transgressors thy 
ways, and sinners shall be converted unto thee." 



/ 



, 



FITNESS FOR LABOUR. 47 

Now even if all such questions must be answered 
in the negative, if it were quite certain that our quali- . 
fications for useful activity never could be increased, 
this would form no good reason why our deficiencies 
should cease to be our affliction. Does a poor man 
cease to deplore his poverty because he has no hope of 
its mitigation ? Do those who suffer pain bewail it less 
because it is incapable of relief ? Does the captive less 
deeply lament his bondage because his chains are 
riveted on him for ever 1 No : and if our hearts are 
right, even if our afflictive unfitness for activity were ' 
hopeless, we should never cease to bewail it. 

But it is not hopeless. If there is much to awaken 
an impulse to seek after growing qualifications, there is 
also much to encourage it : and it will be my present 
business to show you, that, by any person who will 
resolutely attempt it, much may be done in cultivating 
fitness to labour for God. 

I. I may refer briefly to the general grounds upon 
which such a representation may be established. 

It is to be presumed, then, that skilfulness in turning 
sinners to God, like the same quality in the pursuit of 
any other object, may be acquired by appropriate me- 
thods. All the arts and manufactures, the trades and 
professions, that are carried on in the world, are ac- 
quired by proper attention and instruction. No man 
possesses them at his birth, or becomes competent in 
them by magic. Every man learns the art or trade 
which he follows ; and any ordinary profession may be 
acquired by a moderate use of our faculties. Now, 
admitting and duly estimating all the differences be- 
tween the process of a sinner's conversion and every 
other object of human endeavour, yet in as far as 



48 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

human endeavour or instrumentality is applicable to 
it, I am bold to ask why the method, or the art (I hope 
to use this term without being- misunderstood) of turn- 
ing sinners to God may not be acquired, as well as any 
other ? What is there about it so peculiar as to baffle 
our efforts, and to defy a vigorous exertion for its attain- 
ment ] It is simply the art of instruction and persua- 
sion respecting divine things. But the art of instruct- 
ing and persuading men is notoriously attainable by 
human industry, as thousands of instances prove ; and 
if any person who endeavours to do so may improve 
himself in the art of instructing and persuading men 
to evil, why not to good 1 Or if in relation to tempo- 
ral things, why not to spiritual ? Our endeavours to 
convert sinners consist in nothing but the use of our 
natural faculties for this end ; but the use of our natu- 
ral faculties, in any case in which they can be used at 
all, is clearly capable of cultivation and improvement. 

To this it may be added (and, though the remark is 
obvious, it is important,) that, while the art of turning 
sinners to God may be acquired by appropriate efforts, 
it never can be acquired without them. Obvious as 
this sentiment is, it seems to have been strangely over- 
looked. Professors appear, extensively, to have regard- 
ed qualifications for usefulness as existing of them- 
selves, or as springing up and ripening without culti- 
vation. One person has them, another has them not ; 
and this is supposed to be all that can be said on the 
subject. Yet this is far from being the fact. No per- 
son, whatever may be his natural talents, becomes 
eminently fitted for usefulness, without a sedulous cul- 
tivation of his powers. As every art must have a 
learning, so this is no exception to the rule. 



FITNESS FOR LABOUR. 49 

In this view, even our very ignorance and unskilf ill- 
ness afford us a ground of encouragement. For I sup- 
pose I may safely put the question to you, and to pro- 
fessors generally, what pains have you ever taken to 
acquire fitness for converting sinners 1 Recollect your- 
selves a moment. Some of you probably are struck by 
perceiving, perhaps for the first time, that you have 
never used any endeavours for this purpose ; while few, 
if any of you, can say that they have been vigorous 
and habitual. Yet it seems marvellous to you that you 
are not eminently fitted to be useful ! It would be mar- 
vellous rather if you were. Which of the ordinary 
occupations of life would you have been competent to 
perform, if you had taken no more pains to acquire it 
than you have to learn how to save souls 1 And is it 
this alone, of all things, that you expected to know 
without learning ! And this object, the greatest and 
best of all, that you imagined you could be highly 
qualified to promote, without the cultivation of your 
powers'? 

But, as I have said, connected as it is with inattention, 
our very unskilfulness may encourage us. It is not as 
though we had been using every endeavour to become 
wise, and after all were thus incompetent taour task. We 
have scarcely yet begun learning the alphabet of this 
science. All that may be attained by consideration, by 
discipline of heart, by nearness to God, and by prayer, 
all this remains to be attained by us. It is easy of at- 
tainment ; it is ready to our hand ; and it needs only a 
moderately diligent and vigorous use of our faculties 
to make the immediate acquisition of it. Much less 
trouble than we have taken to master the operations 
of the trade we follow, or those of ordinary domestic 



50 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

life, will put us into possession of inestimable treasures 
of wisdom, and go far towards removing the disqualifi- 
cations we deplore. 

II. We shall find this encouraging expectation con- 
firmed, if we look more particularly at those things 
in which eminent qualification for usefulness con- 
sists. 

1. And here we may notice, in the first place, what 
may be called natural fitness ; meaning by this term 
an aptitude for communicating instruction, a persua- 
sive address, a talent for conversation. Such a talent 
obviously affords great facilities for religious useful- 
ness, and is almost essential to any considerable quali- 
fication for it. It is a talent, moreover, which we find 
it very easy to persuade ourselves that we do not pos- 
sess, and which, at the same time, we are apt to con- 
sider so exclusively in the light of a natural gift, as to 
be quite beyond the hope of attainment. Now I am 
very far from calling into question the diversity of ori- 
ginal talent, or from imagining that persons can give 
themselves what talents they please : I maintain, how- 
ever, with entire conviction, that the mind of every 
sane person contains an elementary capacity for all 
useful and important pursuits ; so that while persons of 
peculiar constitutional talent may make more rapid 
and eminent attainments, any and every person, by 
a diligent and well directed cultivation of his facul- 
ties, may make such as are respectable and sufficient 
for ordinary purposes. Nothing can be more obvious 
than the fact, that, while few persons have great natu- 
ral talents for poetry, music, or painting, a large num- 
ber of those who have no considerable talent for these 
accomplishments at all, make in them, nevertheless,- 



FITNESS FOR LABOUR. 51 

very respectable acquirements. The principle I have 
laid down might be still more strikingly illustrated by 
a reference to the useful arts, which are acquired, in a 
degree sufficient for all valuable purposes, by persons 
of all degrees and all diversities of natural adaptation. 
We are warranted, therefore, in representing it as a 
general feature of providential administration, that, 
however original talent may vary, and splendid gifts 
may appear to raise one man unmeasurably above ano- 
ther, a sufficiency of whatever is truly valuable is 
within the reach of every man. 

Let this beneficial, and, as it appears to me, unques- 
tionable principle of the divine dispensation, be applied 
to such natural talents as may be needful to religious 
activity. Let it be taken for granted that you have not 
any large measure of a gift for instructive and persua- 
sive converse, and even, if you please, that you are 
remarkably deficient in this respect : without saying 
that you can alter your natural constitution, or create 
for yourself original talent, we say without fear that, 
by a moderately industrious cultivation of your facul- 
ties, you may acquire a very valuable facility of reli- 
gious conversation. Of every one of the common arts 
of life you were once as ignorant as you now can be 
of the method of persuading* sinners to be reconciled 
to God ; you have acquired them by your endeavours 
to learn, without having any extraordinary talent for 
any of them; and in the same way in which you have 
acquired these, you may acquire the art of turning 
sinners to God. What are these methods'? 

The first of them is obviously considerate effort. To 
a person who performs any manual operation but indif- 
ferently, we naturally say, ' Try to do it as well as 



52 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

you can ; be attentive ; mind what you are about/ In 
ordinary cases it is very well known that such trials 
both develope capacity, and strengthen it. If you wish, 
therefore, to augment your capacity for religious con- 
versation, I say to you, Try to do it as well as you 
can. Do it, not heedlessly, but considerately, and with 
preparation. Call to mind the object you have in view; 
prepare yourself with topics suited to your purpose ; 
bestow attention and care upon the execution of your 
design ; aim at improvement ; and this very exercise 
of your powers will invigorate them. 

The advantage thus acquired is increased by repeat- 
ed effort. As no art is perfectly acquired at once, so 
multiplied efforts are never made without a proportion- 
ate increase of skill. What we do often, we infallibly 
do easily, and if we try, we shall do it well. Our early 
endeavours in religious conversation and address may 
have been attended with many defects, and may have 
oppressed us even with a heavier sense of our unfitness 
than we had ever before suffered ; but this should by 
no means discourage us. No person ever made a pin 
well the first time ; but practice leads the learner for- 
ward, even to perfection. If you make a proper use 
of your failures in one attempt, they wiH increase 
your wisdom for the next; and it is impossible that a 
series of such efforts should be made without a very 
valuable measure of success. You yourselves do not 
believe that you could pursue such a course for ten 
years, or for one year, and have no more talent for reli- 
gious conversation at the close of this period than you 
have at present. 

It must be added that a talent for religious conver- 
sation may be promoted, in many cases, by a little dis~ 



FITNESS FOR LABOUR. 53 

cipline of the heart Our attempts in this direction are 
sometimes embarrassed by our feelings. We could 
converse on any other subject ; but, when we think of 
conversing* upon religion, we are taken with such a 
trepidation, we are so nervous, that our very vpice is 
choked, and we cannot speak. Now, without denying 
that all or some of this may be constitutional, and ad- 
mitting readily that, whether constitutional or not, it is 
trying, I must still say that such feelings as these are 
capable of regulation, and that, for any important ob- 
ject, we know what it is to control them. What man 
or woman suffers them to stand permanently in the 
way of their promotion and advancement in life I And 
how long would they obstruct our religious activity, if 
we realized the infinite value and importance of the 
end to be attained 7 Or if every one who is liable to a 
little nervousness and trepidation in bringing forward 
serious conversation is entitled to abandon the attempt, 
where is the person who might not find a screen for 
his taciturnity 1 

If I have brought home to you, dear brethren, any 
conviction that, for all useful purposes, a talent of reli- 
gious conversation may be successfully cultivated, 
even by those who may possess the least of it as a na- 
tural gift, let me press it upon you to commence the 
process. Do not any longer imagine that even a real 
want of natural talent denies you the attainment of an 
ample fitness for exertion. If you have not an aptitude 
at pious converse, acquire it; just in the same way as 
you would apply yourselves to the mastery of any do- 
mestic process or professional operation, with which 
you might find yourselves unacquainted. Let me press 
it upon you also to commence this cultivation of your 

F* 



54 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

talents icithout delay. Procrastination increases its 
difficulty, both because the cultivation of natural talent 
becomes less easy as life advances, and because an ha- 
bitual neglect demands ultimately a more strenuous 
effort for its destruction. In this respect persons young 
in piety and young in life possess immense advantages 
over others. Only begin the cultivation of your talents 
for usefulness, dear young friends, in this period of 
your course, and many difficulties, which now impede 
the activity of your seniors, will never occur to you at 
all. To them, in fact, they are in great part the mere 
production of indulged and confirmed habits. They 
feel themselves unfitted now for religious converse and 
address, chiefly because they have never been used to 
it ; and when they would exert themselves, they are 
embarrassed by little more than the rigidity resulting 
from the inaction of so many preceding years. Had 
those who are now aged, studied and practised from 
their youth the art of persuading men to repentance, 
they would now have been masters in a science in 
which many of them are babes ; and instead of having 
a number of old professors who, for the most part, 
shrink from efforts of usefulness, and really do not 
know how to address fifty people for their souls' good, 
or to converse with ungodly individuals for the same 
end, we should possess in them at this moment an in- 
valuable body of instructors. Such, I hope, the next 
generation of old professors will be ; but it is for you 
who are now young to see that it shall be so, by a dili- 
gent cultivation of those natural powers, which every 
man possesses in a sufficient degree, and which, if cul- 
tivated, will render the experience and wisdom of 



FITNESS FOR LABOUR. 55 

your later years a treasure for the benefit of the 
world. 

2. A second portion of the qualifications for useful- 
ness may be expressed by the term moral fitness. It 
consists mainly of three branches : the first is an es- 
tablished and eminent spirituality of mind ; the second 
is an exemplary consistency of conduct ; and the third 
is an adequate command of temper. A sense of defi- 
ciency in these things, is, perhaps, not an unfrequent 
hindrance to religious activity, especially in the family 
or other circles, in which our character is more con- 
tinually subject to observation. When some opportu- 
nity of useful converse arises, and we are sufficiently 
alive to it to perceive that it ought to be improved, we 
feel, perhaps, that we are at the time in so dull and 
stupid a frame, our thoughts so absorbed in earthly 
things, our feelings so far from spiritual, that we are 
unfit for the effort ; we cannot say any thing about re- 
ligion in such a state of mind : or it may be that we 
have not long before shown some unchristian temper, 
either of passion, or pride, or levity, or want of upright- 
ness ; so that the very thought of inculcating religion 
upon another too severely reproves ourselves, while we 
know that our inconsistencies would furnish an unan- 4 
swerable pretext for the evasion of our exhortations : 
or perhaps we fear to speak, because we have found 
ourselves in similar attempts liable to lose our temper, 
and to manifest a degree of petulance and irritation 
tending to destroy the effect of the most touching 
truths. These things constitute, it is true, a grievous 
unfitness for usefulness ; but the want of this kind of 
fitness is surely not insuperable. Spirituality, con- 
sistency, and self-control, are clearly parts of christian 



56 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

character, and capable of successful cultivation by 
christian industry. Let it only be our concern to re- 
tire more resolutely from the world, and to draw nearer 
to God ; to look more intently at the things which are 
not seen, and to dwell more solemnly on the powers of 
the world to come ; let us only be more in the presence 
of our ascended Lord, and more importunate for the 
influences of his blessed Spirit ; let us only make a more' 
thorough examination of our own hearts, and subject 
them more deliberately to the subduing and sanctifying 
influences of the love of Christ ; let us only associate 
the more vigorous exercises of the closet with a more 
watchful and prayerful spirit in the world ; and these 
qualifications will be continually on the increase. 
There is no eminence in these, which, if w T e choose, 
we may not attain. 

3. A third portion of fitness for spiritual usefulness 
may be called practical fitness, or skill ; an aptness in 
conducting religious conversation well, so as to engage 
attention, to touch the feelings, to reach the conscience, 
to meet objections, to remove cavils, and in all respects 
to be adapted to the character addressed, and produc- 
tive of the best effect. Now this requires, not merely 
.a well cultivated talent for conversation, but an emi- 
nent degree of wisdom in the management of conver- 
sation in particular cases. Of such wisdom we may 
all of us well say that we possess bu*t little. In how 
many cases does our experience painfully convince us 
of the fact ! How often do we find ourselves at a loss 
to understand a character* to select suitable topics, to 
find the best method of attacking a manifest evil, or 
to withdraw persons from a maze of errors and a laby- 
rinth of vain objections ! Sometimes it may seem use- 






FITNESS FOR LABOUR. 57 

Jess for us to continue or to renew the attempt; and 
in truth it is of the utmost importance that our wisdom 
should be increased. But this also may be increased ; 
cultivation will not be lost upon it. 

Much in this respect may be learned from an atten- 
tive study of the scriptures. We should not forget 
that God has to do with the same characters which 
perplex and embarrass us, and in the same methods of 
instruction and persuasion which he commands us to 
employ. In the bible we shall see how he treats them. 
Their portrait is there, with the statements, exhorta- 
tions, and motives which divine wisdom has thought 
adapted to convict, to arouse, and to subdue them. 
Make it your endeavour to trace the description and 
the treatment of different characters in the word of 
God ; and when you thus learn to understand them, 
treat them accordingly. Remember that the method 
in which they are treated in the scripture is the wisest 
and the best ; and the only one in which you can ex- 
pect success, because it is the only one in which you 
can expect the divine blessing. If I might obtain 
particular attention to this remark, I would earnestly 
press it ; since I am convinced that the treatment of 
ungodly persons, even by those who sincerely strive 
for their conversion, is to a great extent unscriptural, 
and that for this reason the heart and conscience 
answer to it so feebly. 

An additional help to the skilful treatment of others, 
will be found in the study of your own heart. For 
your own heart contains in embryo, if not in actual 
development, every thing which exists in the bosom 
of another. To understand the mysteries of the breast 
into which you are desirous of introducing the light 



58 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

of divine truth, or of pouring its sanctifying streams, 
it is only needful that you should comprehend your- 
self. Get a large acquaintance with your own heart, 
in its deep-seated corruption and enmity to God, in its 
evasiveness and treachery, in its flatteries and incon- 
stancy; trace the manner in which instruction and 
conviction came home to your own conscience, and 
the motives which operated to your release from the 
bonds of iniquity; call to mind the unanswerable 
truths which silenced all your objections, and made 
you stand speechless, though condemned, before God ; 
any you will become profoundly wise to win souls to 
Christ. 

You will do well, also, to accustom yourself to the 
study of mankind. Though human character is, in 
its general principles, so uniform that every man may 
be regarded as an epitome of his race, it is also of such 
endless diversity in its development, that every indi- 
vidual is worthy of a separate study. Have your eye 
open to the various phases of character which pass 
before you ; mark the differences of constitutional 
temperament, the influence of predominant passions, 
the effect of circumstances and association, the force 
of early opinion and prevailing prejudice, the unmean- 
ing acquiescence, the captious cavil, the petulant re- 
pulse ; for every observation of this sort will be an ad- 
ditional lesson of wisdom, teaching you more fully 
what men are, and with what arms you must contend 
against their iniquities. In such a cause as this, no 
Christian need despair of attaining eminent practical 
skill, and of becoming a workman that needeth not to 
be ashamed. 

Such are the methods, dear brethren, by which fit- 






FITNESS FOR LABOUR. 59 

noss lor labour may be cultivated : I have now only to 
ask you whether you will 'pursue its cultivation. In 
establishing* its possibility, I will not believe that J 
have taken away one of your remaining comforts, by 
robbing you of what you have regarded as a perma- 
nent plea for inaction. I hope rather that I have pre- 
sented to you a remedy for no inconsiderable sorrow. 
If, desiring to be useful, you have been weighed down 
by a sense of your unfitness for it, you will now lift 
up your head with joy, saying to yourself, ' Every 
thing needful to render me eminently useful may be 
acquired. Delightful thought ! I am not then doomed 
to a hopeless unfruitfulness. I need not repine at the 
sight of more splendid talents, or of a superior educa- 
tion. I need not sit down amidst my own many in- 
firmities in despair.' 

I know that the cultivation of useful talent will add 
to your labour. But does that dismay you ? How many 
persons, in order to acquire something conducive to an 
earthly object, have risen early in the morning, and 
sat up late in the evening, and made efforts as willing* 
as they were strenuous ! What would we ourselves 
not do to acquire a language, or an art, by which we 
should gain a thousand, or even a hundred pounds I 
Shall our neglect of the cultivation of fitness for use- 
fulness proclaim the fact, that we do not estimate the 
conversion of perhaps many sinners worth any thing- 
like so much as these comparatively paltry and insig- 
u i lien nt gains'? 

Allow me to close this address with one word of 
Caution. Do not wait for an increase of qualification 
before you, begin to act. As you arc, you can do 
something, and amidst dying souls not a moment 



(50 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

should be wasted. Besides which, if you do nothing- 
to-day, your only opportunity may be lost : to-morrow 
you yourself may be in eternity. Neither suffer your- 
self, upon any particular occasion, to be hindered 
from action by conscious unfitness. Though you 
might exert yourself more pleasantly and more bene- 
ficially if it were otherwise, do not therefore omit the 
good which you may still accomplish, and thus volun- 
tarily aggravate the inevitable mischief of your state. 
Finally, whatever advance you make in fitness for 
labour, be sure that you bring it all into action. Re- 
member that you are not amassing a treasure for your- 
self, but for others ; that it is not to be hoarded, but to 
be spent ; and that you mean to be as laborious, as 
you are endeavouring to become wise. See that you 
fulfil the vow which you have associated with your 
prayer, ' Then will I teach transgressors thy ways, 
and sinners shall be converted unto thee.' 



LECTURE IV. 

PREPARING FOR ACTION. 



1 Kings xx. 11. 

Him that girdeth on his harness. 

Dear brethren, I have hitherto been engaging you 
to survey your field of labour, and not only justly to 
estimate, but diligently to augment your resources for 
its cultivation. It is now time to descend from these 
more general to more particular topics. If any thing 
is really to be done for God or for the souls of men, 
the work must be taken up, not in the gross, but in 
detail. We must not content ourselves with contem- 
plating perhaps a large number of objects, and saying, 
4 1 have to attempt all these ;' but, as we can do only 
one thing at a time, we must proceed to take up indi- 
vidually the efforts which are incumbent upon us, and 
address ourselves to that which is appropriate to the 
present hour. Without this, it is very possible for a 
general perception and conviction of duty to exist in 
combination with perpetual sloth. I hope, dear bre- 
thren, that you are no strangers to those vigorous ex- 
ercises by which a sense of obligation is rendered 
practical and influential, the impulse and the guide, 
rather than the torment and the reproach of your daily 
life. You thus exemplify the christian preparing for 
action, and will kindly accept from me a few coun- 
sels adapted to this difficult and important part of your 
proceedings. 



62 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

I need not detain you by any lengthened observa- 
tions on the benefit or the importance of preparation 
for your attempts to turn sinners unto God. Its ad- 
vantage is obvious. Whatever it is worth while to 
do at all, it is worth while to do well ; and nothing 
can be done well without an endeavor to do so. Heed- 
lessness is never connected with eminence in any de- 
partment of exertion ; but, on the contrary, inevitably 
gives a character of inferior workmanship even to the 
simplest operations. If endeavours for the conversion 
of sinners, therefore, stood only on the same level with 
the ordinary occupations of life, they should, like them, 
be associated with preparatory thought; but how 
much more, when we consider the far higher rank 
which they occupy ? No efforts contemplate so im- 
portant an object ; none require so much wisdom ; 
none meet with so many obstructions ; in none is suc- 
cess so valuable or so difficult : least of all, therefore, 
in this direction can we expect to operate wisely or 
successfully without preparation. It is aline in which 
inconsiderate efforts run the utmost hazard of being, 
not only fruitless, but injurious. We may derive from 
them in the retrospect much cause of lamentation and 
of shame ; but we shall see little matter for satisfac- 
tion or of joy. If this be not the issue that we wish, 
if we are desirous of having a recompense for our la- 
bour, or, at all events, of showing ourselves to be 
workmen who need not to be ashamed, every effort 
should be made with a previous exercise of thought 
and discipline of heart, commensurate with the im- 
portance of the work, and the value of its result. 

To pass on, however, from this general and obvious 
sentiment, let me direct your attention to the objects 



PREPARING FOR ACTION. 63 

ichich should be principally aimed at in your prepa- 
ratory exercises. For the sake of doing so more dis- 
tinctly, I will take a specific case, and suppose that, 
in your morning retirement, you are contemplating 
some special effort ; as, for example, your sectional 
visits in a christian instruction society, a call upon an 
ungodly neighbour, conversation with a brother or a 
sister, or some other among the thousand methods of 
religious usefulness. Your devout endeavours to pre- 
pare yourself for this effort, should be directed to the 
formation of the purpose, the selection of the means, 
the cultivation of the temper, and the supplication of 
the divine blessing. 

I. The first of these objects is the formation of the 
purpose. This is manifestly of the first importance, 
inasmuch as the purpose is the direct impulse of action. 
Knowledge leads to action only by generating a pur- 
pose to act ; and if such a purpose be wanting, however 
clear our perception and ample our information, action 
can never be produced by it. It is true, that the 
knowledge of reasons why we should exert ourselves, 
is in itself adapted to awaken a resolution to do so ; 
but it by no means necessarily or uniformly produces 
this effect. Its just influence always may be, and in 
many cases is, counteracted by other causes. To take 
for illustration the example which is now before us. 
You clearly see, perhaps, and are fully convinced, that 
it is your duty to make an effort for the conversion of 
some particular sinner, and you are well acquainted 
with the various motives adapted to quicken you to the 
effort ; but is your knowledge connected with an actu- 
al intention to acquit yourself of the obligation 1 Are 
you in the attitude of resolution for immediate action 1 



64 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

Do you not know what it is to find the knowledge of 
your duty combined with a great disinclination to per- 
form it I Or if not with a positive disinclination, yet 
with a large degree of apathy and irresolution ! 

Now this is an evil which requires our immediate 
and earnest care. In whatever measure adequate re- 
solution is wanting, the main spring is wanting by 
which exertion is to be originated and sustained. The 
generation of a decided and glowing purpose should 
be our first aim. I know that the task will not be an 
easy one. Even if there were no external difficulties, 
the carnality of our own hearts would present no in- 
considerable obstacle; while it constantly facilitates 
the invention of others, or their aggravation, in what- 
ever measure they may exist. As you cannot regard 
such a state with complacency^ on the one hand, so 
neither, on the other, should you contemplate it with 
despair. You find herein that your heart needs disci- 
pline, and you will proceed to discipline it accordingly. 
You will enter into converse with yourself in some 
such method as this. ' Here is an opportunity of pro- 
moting another's spiritual good ; why am I not ready 
to improve it ? It is an effort which I may make, 
which I can make, which I ought to make. I shall be 
aiming to impart the highest possible benefit to an- 
other ; I shall be securing the richest luxury for my- 
self. If I am indeed pious, it is an effort for which 
my character is adapted, and with which my heart is 
congenial. The voice of my Saviour calls me to it; 
it is the way in which he wishes me to glorify his 
name, and to testify my gratitude for his love. And 
yet I cannot make up my mind to do it ! What can 
be the meaning of this ? Is pity for the souls of men ; 



PREPARING FOR ACTION. 65 

is my duty to God ; is love to the Saviour ; is consist- 
ency ; is every consideration to lift up its voice in vain 1 
Do I mean, here in my chamber, in the immediate 
presence of eternal things, and of him who loved me 
and gave himself for me, to refuse his call, and to say 
I will not obey ] What then am 1 1 What can I be 1 
Where is my love for the Saviour ; where my devo- 
tedness to his glory ; where my pity for the lost 1 In 
the face of this unmoveable apathy, am I still going 
to believe that any one of these feelings prevail within 

me 1 But whence is it that such considerations do 

not move me ? Am I turning away from them, as 
though I were unwilling that they should produce 
upon me their just influence ! O my soul, beware of 
such guilty treachery to thyself, and to thy Lord 3 Is 
it that I am embarrassed by bashfulness and timidity ? 
Yet I surely ought to mortify these feelings at the 
voice of my Redeemer, and for the accomplishment of 
so blessed an end. Is it that I imagine I cannot speak, 
or act in the case with effect ] At all events I can 
try ; and I never shall acquit myself of my duty if I 
do not. Is it that I fear the consequences, and am un- 
willing to hazard the unpleasantness which might re- 
sult from my endeavours] Yet what sacrifices ought 
I not cheerfully to make, for him who bore such griefs 
for me 1 Is it a kind of effort which is new to me 1 
Then my past neglect should quicken my present ac- 
tivity. Is it that others are slothful 1 Their guilt can 
afford me no justification. What else obstructs me ? 
Let me try every pretext, and penetrate every disguise ; 
and if nothing impedes me but what will not bear 
examination, nothing but what ought to be sacrificed 
at my Redeemer's footstool, by all that is consistent 



66 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

or faithful, grateful or devoted, I charge my heart to 
slay it in his sight. I must go and labour. How can 
I bear to be the murderer of souls, or a traitor to the 
sovereign of my heart]' 

I give you this merely as an example of those ex- 
ercises of meditation, which of course will be thrown 
into endless diversity by diversities of character and 
circumstances. You will not use such a method with- 
out an ample recompense. The purpose to act for 
God, if ever it exists on rational grounds, arises out 
of such considerations as these, and out of them, when 
vigorously presented to the heart, it will infallibly 
arise. Whatever efforts for conversion you contem- 
plate, make it a point thus closely to converse with 
your own heart, until you have awakened a firm and 
steady purpose for the deed. 

II. Your preparation should be directed, secondly, 
to the selection of the means. It would be egregious 
folly to attempt to do all things in the same method. 
Every object has. means peculiarly appropriate to its 
attainment, and much of the wisdom and success of 
our efforts lies in the selection and arrangement of 
them. When you have resolved, therefore, to make 
an effort for the conversion of a particular person, ask 
yourself by what means you shall seek to accomplish 
the end. Let the various methods which may be em- 
ployed be set before you, and consider which of them 
may be best adapted to the case. The most natural 
and obvious is conversation ; but as there may be oc- 
casions on which this may not be suitable or practica- 
ble, consider whether the writing of a letter may be 
preferred ; or whether the recommendation of a book, 
or placing one so that it may be taken as by accident, 



PREPARING FOR ACTIO*. 67 

may be all that the case will properly admit of. Let 
me only say, that the decision of such points should be 
referred neither to rashness on the one hand, nor to 
prudence on the other ; but to honest christian wisdom. 
If on some occasions it may be necessary to rein in 
our zeal, on many more it may be requisite to apply 
the spur to our cowardice. It is obvious that such 
points as these are to be determined with more facility 
and wisdom by previous consideration, than if left to 
perplex us at the moment when the opportunity of 
action arrives. The neglect of such consideration 
may give to the best intended exertions a lamentable 
character of heedlessness and indiscretion. 

If you have determined on some mode of direct com- 
munication, as in a great majority of cases you may, 
prepare yourself for it by a judicious selection of 
topics. Fitted as every part of divine truth is for use- 
fulness, circumstances give a peculiar fitness to cer- 
tain parts of it, in certain cases, and at certain times. 
In a given instance, one portion of truth may be more 
especially congenial with the exercises of your own 
mind, with some local or passing associations, or albove 
all, with the character, temper, habits, or degree of 
knowledge, of the person you address. [ am not now 
insisting upon so obvious a truth as that our conversa- 
tion should be adapted to such circumstances, but upon 
the necessity of using previous care for this purpose, 
whenever it is possible. We shall in this way secure 
the adaptation we desire much more extensively than 
in any other. Even if we possess a considerable mea- 
sure of readiness for useful religious conversation, 
(which, perhaps, we may scarcely be willing to affirm,) 
we should not trust ourselves to the suggestions of the 



68 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

moment, when opportunity for consideration may be 
attained. It should be our endeavour also to furnish 
ourselves for conversation upon the topics we have 
chosen. Conversation without thought is apt to be 
desultory and incoherant. We naturally, and almost 
inevitably, find it difficult to pursue any object on the 
instant, even with tolerable closeness or effect ; 
while, without being adepts in study, a few minutes 
devotional consideration of the theme would afford 
invaluable aid. * 

To illustrate what 1 mean by an example. The 
person you intend to address presents a particular 
aspect of ignorance upon the subject of inward depra- 
vity ; he thinks that his heart is good, and that he 
never meant any harm. You wish to lead him to more 
accurate views of himself, and you mean to make this 
the subject of your next conversation. The interview 
arrives; and if you enter upon it without preparation, 
you find your address far less convincing than you 
could have desired, and the success of it very small. 
This is just what you might have expected, and what 
the preparation I am recommending would enable you 
to avoid. If previously to such an interview, you will 
seriously think what the evidences of the heart's cor- 
ruption are ; what are the most striking general ma- 
nifestations of it ; which are most likely to come home 
to the particular case ; and how the spirit of self-com- 
placency may be most effectually destroyed, you will 
obviously be much better fitted for the conversation, 
and can hardly fail to conduct it with greater power. 

There is the more importance in this subject, be- 
cause there is reason to believe that, in many recent 
efforts to do good, the religious conversation has been 



PREPARING FOR ACTION. 69 

limited to a few cursory remarks, or expressions of 
good will and earnest concern. Now I ask, and I may 
nably ask, whether we can expect to slay the 
reigning passions of ungodly men by such weapons as 
these. What is here of the vivid presentation of truth, 
or its forcible application? What evil is skilfully 
attacked ] What holy disposition is it judiciously at- 
tempted to awaken ] And what results can be antici- 
pated from such superficial and slender efforts'? Verily, 
just what we see; the evil spirit continuing unbound 
and rampant in the breast. 

If we say that it is high time this mode of proceed- 
ing was altered, we shall be told, perhaps, that this is 
all which christians at large can do ; and that the stu- 
died conversation of which we have spoken is compe- 
tent only to ministers, and persons of a superior order. 
But we deny this altogether. Without undervaluing 
the advantage of habits of disciplined thought, we may 
safely affirm that the possession of experimental piety 
capacitates every man, who will converse conside- 
rately upon religious topics, for conversing with substan- 
tial method and wisdom. The least informed and 
most illiterate christian is competent to meditate upon 
the word of God in its various bearings upon the heart 
of man, illustrated as they are by its influence on his 
own ; and by the moderate exercise of such meditation 
he may furnish himself for converse of the most benefi- 
cial kind. But this plea is brought forward much too 
soon. The matter has not yet been put to the test 
Private christians have not generally begun to try to 
converse as well as they can. There is, for the most 
part, no attempt made to furnish themselves for any 
thing beyond a few desultory words, so that what they 



70 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

can do is a thing hitherto quite unknown. When they 
have done what they can, we shall readily admit the 
plea we have been considering in lieu of the rest. 

III. Preparations for efforts of usefulness should be 
directed, in the third place, to the cultivation of the 
temper ; taking the w T ord temper in such a latitude as 
to comprehend generally the spirit in which they are 
undertaken. 

One point in this department which demands very 
serious regard, is the motive under which we act. It 
is clear that it is both right and important for our 
endeavours for the good of souls to be actuated by the 
grand motive of the gospel, an ardent concern for the 
glory of God, and of his son Jesus Christ. No further 
than they are so, are they evidential of a proper cha- 
racter to us, or acceptable in the sight of a heart- 
searching God. Yet it is by no means to be presumed 
that this motive is in due operation, even in so sacred 
a work as the conversion of sinners. If you look care- 
fully within, you may find, perhaps greatly to your 
own surprise, that there is scarcely any conscious ope- 
ration of motive at all ; especially when the effort, 
as among visitors of a christian instruction society, or 
in other cases, has a measure of regularity about it. 
Or if you are not so engaged merely because it is such 
an hour or such a day, you may be so because others 
are, or because it is expected of you, or for some other 
reason far below the great impulse of a heart dedi- 
cated to the Saviour. You should be very much aware 
of this lowering and mixture of motive ; and you will 
by no method so effectually prevent it as by the prepa- 
ratory exercises I have recommended to you. Exam- 
ine seriously what your motives are ; whether you 



PREPARING FOR ACTION. 71 

are impelled by unworthy or subordinate ones; and 
whether the grand motive of love to Christ is in due 
exercise. See that, by meditation on his love, it is 
awakened afresh ; let your intended effort be made a 
fruit of the living tree of consecration to God which is 
implanted within you ; and as such let it be presented, 
before you make it, at his footstool, to whom your 
whole heart and life are dedicated. Be not satisfied 
till you can say, ' Lord, I do this for thee, and for thy 
glory.' 

Another point demanding notice is the temper, strict- 
ly speaking, in which our efforts shall be conducted. In 
this respect danger arises from that love of censure 
which belongs to our fallen nature. We are too likely 
to be pleased with an opportunity of finding fault, or 
with feeling that we have a right to do so. Hence, 
if we are not wary, the statements which we are called 
upon to make to men respecting their sin and misery, 
may be thrown into a tone of censoriousness and 
denunciation greatly adapted to defeat their end. 
While upon no account we should be deterred by mere 
imputations of harshness from an unflinching fidelity, 
we should carefully endeavour to avoid the reality of 
it. For this end, a portion of our preparatory thoughts 
should be applied to the cultivation of a compassionate 
spirit. We should set before us the person at whose 
conversion we mean to aim in aspects adapted to 
excite our pity, and stir up those yearnings of mercy 
within us, which will make us weep while we accuse, 
and teach us to utter cutting truths with a melting 
tenderness. 

Besides this, it should be our care to be well secur- 
ed against irritation, an evil not always avoided, nor 



72 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

always easy to be avoided, in religious conversation. 
We are apt to become fretted by those whose igno- 
rance does not speedily give way to instruction, more 
especially if they should, in our judgment, exhibit stu- 
pidity or perverseness. Much that may be deemed of 
this character is liable to occur in efforts of religious 
instruction, not only through the blindness of the natu- 
ral man, but through an unwillingness to be drawn 
from sinful ways ; and sometimes the very endeavour 
to convince may be made an occasion of resentment or 
insult. Nothing can be more undesirable than that 
our passions should be inflamed by any occurrences of 
this sort, or that a word or a tone expressive of petu- 
lance should escape from our lips. Our guard in this 
respect requires to be set before we "enter upon our 
labour. We should steadily contemplate the proba- 
bility of such trials, and fortify ourselves beforehand, 
by considerations which will readily occur to us, 
against their influence. We should never regard our- 
selves as prepared for the work, until we are con- 
sciously ready to encounter perverseness with patience, 
and to repay insult with love. 

We need to be yet further armed with discretion- 
For even when our plan is laid, and every thing, as 
we may imagine, skilfully prepared, it may be by no 
means practicable with wisdom to carry it into direct 
and complete execution. Circumstances may arise, 
adapted to induce us either to relinquish what we 
did intend, or to do what we did not, or in a thou- 
sand ways to modify the execution of our purpose. 
We should never so fLX our plan, as to be un- 
prepared or unwilling -to change it. We should 
keep an open eye, and maintain an enlarged observa- 



PREPARING FOR ACTION. 73 

tion of circumstances, in order warily to avoid what- 
ever might diminish the good effect of our endeavours, 
or perhaps turn them to mischief. If we should fail to 
do so, the best intended efforts may become liable to 
such charges of obtrusiveness, impertinence, or other 
evils, as not only to frustrate our purpose for the pre- 
sent, but to forfeit our influence for the future, and to 
place a stumbling block in the way of others as w T ell 
as ourselves. This spirit of watchfulness, like all 
other right feelings, requires to be cultivated before- 
hand, in order to be ready for use when the occasion 
arrives. In our preparatory exercises, therefore, it 
should as truly be our endeavour to arm ourselves w r ith 
discretion as w T ith courage ; and the more so, because, 
so liable are we to extremes, that in our efforts to awaken 
courage, discretion is unusually likely to be forgotten. 

IV. Your preparation for efforts of usefulness should 
comprehend, lastly, an earnest supplication of the di- 
vine blessing. You will acknowledge in a moment 
that this is a matter of the utmost importance. 

You will want it to help you in your labour. For 
when you come to put into execution what you have 
designed, you will find the same evils in your heart 
with which you have been contending in your closet ; 
while the spirit of devout consecration, which you 
were endeavouring to cherish there, will have lost 
some of its vigour. Upon a moment's consideration, 
and perhaps without it, you will find yourself entirely 
helpless and unfit tor your work, but in the strength of 
divine grace. It may be sought, indeed, by an inward 
prayer at the moment ; but it is highly important that 
it should be previously sought, and that fervent suppli- 
cations should arise from your retirement for mercy 

H 



74 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

to be communicated to your labour. With how much 
more comfort will you proceed amidst your conscious 
and multiplied infirmities, when you know that you 
have previously engaged the help of your Father who 
is in heaven! With how much more cheerfulness 
may you expect that succour, when you know that 
you have acknowledged your poverty before him, and 
besought him to pour into your earthen vessel of his 
heavenly treasure ! 

You will want the blessing of God to give you sue- 
cess. It is not that the adaptation and sufficiency of 
the means you employ are for a moment to be ques- 
tioned; but that the success of means in all cases 
depends upon divine blessing. In the natural world, 
if you plant or water, it is God who gives the in- 
crease ; and it is the same in the spiritual world. No 
blind eyes will be opened, no sinners will be turned 
from the power of Satan unto God, unless the Lord be 
with you ; in any other case, ignorance and sin will 
bid defiance to all your exertions, and the foul spirits 
that reign in the world will laugh you to scorn. You 
have surely seen enough of the blindness and stubborn- 
ness of ungodly men, to remove all doubt of this truth. 
You have seen how little favour the declarations of God's 
word meet with in the carnal heart ; how quickly and 
perseveringly the eye is turned from spiritual to tem- 
poral things ; how deeply rooted the dominant passions 
are ; and how tenaciously beloved iniquities are clung 
to, in defiance of every thing that is either just, or 
terrible, or attractive : and I might ask you whether 
it is in your own strength that such obstacles as these 
can be overcome. The strong man in armed posses- 
sion of his house might say to you, as the demons at 
Ephesus to the sons of Sceva, « Jesug I know ; but who 



PREPARING FOR ACTION. 75 

are you V and the little fruit of labours carried on in a 
spirit of self-confidence would speedily convince you 
of your weakness. There is one power, and only one, to 
which the carnal heart will bow ; and that power it should 
be your earnest aim to engage on your side. If, indeed, 
you are willing to labour in vain, if it will be satisfac- 
tory to you to see the field submitted to your cultiva- 
tion still barren in righteousness, and producing luxo* 
riantly the thorns and briers which fit it for the burn- 
ing, then go to your occupation alone ; contend with 
the carnal heart in your own strength, and this result 
will assuredly follow. But if, as doubtless is the case, 
you long to see a blessed result from your toil ; if you 
wish to see the wilderness in which you labour be- 
come as the garden of the Lord ; if you yearn over 
perishing souls, and pant to rescue them from the 
wrath to come; then I beseech you to cherish the 
deepest sense of your own insufficiency, and of the 
inefficacy of every means apart from almighty grace. 
Lay your contemplated efforts in unfeigned humilia- 
tion before the mercy-seat, and with all the ardour of 
your mind implore the Father of mercies to bestow 
the success by which his name shall be glorified. 
Attempt nothing until you have associated it with the 
earnest prayer, " O Lord, I beseech thee, send now 
prosperity." If you find yourself deficient in the ap- 
preciation of your own weakness, as you often may, 
look upon that deficiency as an evil which urgently 
requires to be rectified. Give your own heart no rest, 
until you feel rightly upon so important a subject; 
and then give the Lord no rest until he hear and an- 
swer your prayer. Tell him that you cannot go with- 
out him to a battle, in which without him you are sure 



76 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

to be defeated ; and appeal to him in the words of one 
of his ancient friends, "If thy presence go not with 
me, carry me not up hence." 

There is the greater need that our exercises in this 
respect should be deep and earnest, because of the 
principles by which the divine administration is go- 
verned. " Them that honour me," saith the Lord, " I 
will honour." It is in proportion to the degree in which 
we cultivate right feelings towards him, that he will 
afford tokens of his favour to us. This is just. The 
glory of his name is the ultimate end of all his ways ; 
and he will not give it to another. When we fail to 
observe and to acknowledge the station which he holds 
as the giver of all good, or to place ourselves in our 
due position of dependence and supplication, we fail to 
render him the glory which is due from us unto his 
name ; and we assume an attitude, in which, if he 
were to grant us tokens of favour, it would be depart- 
ing from the great principle of his government, and be 
smiling upon what he disapproves. A spirit of self- 
annihilation, therefore, is immensely important to our 
success. It draws God towards us. It puts us in the 
posture in which his amplest blessing may be expect- 
ed. While the contrary spirit repels him, and makes 
it necessary that he should leave us to learn, by bitter 
experience, the error and the folly of our self-com- 
placency. There is no inconsiderable need of exer- 
cising ourselves on this point. In doctrine, nothing is 
more clearly proved, or more readily admitted ; but 
the state of feeling is sometimes far from correspond- 
ing with the doctrine. We never justify self-confi- 
dence ; but, if we would examine, we should find that 
we often indulge it : or, which is the same thing, that 



PREPARING FOR ACTION. 77 

we are very far from being duly impressed with the 
necessity of divine influence, and duly importunate for 
it. We may recollect, perhaps, many occasions upon 
which our endeavours for the conversion of sinners 
have not been connected with exercises of humiliation 
and prayer at all commensurate with the facts and 
truths which we acknowledge. Till we learn more 
eminently to honour God, we cannot expect eminently 
to be honoured by him. 

It is a further advantage of such preparatory exer- 
cises of humiliation and prayer, that they augment our 
actual fitness for labour. I am well aware that they 
do not increase our comfort in it ; but how many times 
have you yourselves found, or have others told you, 
that, so far as usefulness can be traced, it is far from 
being most abundant when we have been most com- 
fortable 1 Upon the contrary, and perhaps very much 
to our surprise, those efforts which we have made un- 
der the most afflicting sense of weakness and insuffi- 
ciency, have subsequently appeared to have been most 
copiously blessed. The fact is, that a painful sense of 
weakness imparts an earnestness and cogency to the 
manner, which greatly augments its adaptation to the 
end designed, and renders a person in such a state of 
mind much more likely to succeed than one in the 
lighter spirit of easy expectation ; while it tends like- 
wise to keep the eye continually up to heaven, and to 
associate every word that is poured into the ear of man 
with an ardent aspiration to that of the Most High. 

It is highly delightful, and should be earnestly co- 
veted, to go forth to endeavours for the conversion of 
sinners under a consciousness that God is with us. In 
answer to earnest prayer we know not how often such 

H* 



78 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

a felicity may be granted us. We should not, however, 
be discouraged if we do not attain it. The Lord may 
be with us in our work, though we have not the sweet 
anticipation of his presence ; and if we have earnestly 
besought him, he will. He whom we have sought in 
secret may reward us openly, when the exercises of the 
closet have witnessed little but severe and apparently 
unsuccessful wrestlings. 

These preparatory exercises I have exhibited to you, 
for the sake of distinctness, in connection with some 
specific exertion contemplated in your retirement ; but 
inasmuch as many efforts of this class cannot be so sin- 
gled out, inasmuch indeed as we are called to be habi- 
tually in action, so we ought to be habitually prepared 
for action. To attain this end it is necessary to make 
preparation for such endeavours an object of habitual 
regard, and to allot to it a portion, both of our closet 
exercises, and of our constant watchfulness. We should 
aim at the same kind of preparation for habitual exer- 
tions as for specific ones ; and then only should we be 
satisfied, when the fitness for them which may be at- 
tained by laborious discipline in the closet can be sus- 
tained through all the circumstances and employments 
of the day. 

Such are the counsels, dear brethren, which I beg 
you to accept and to practise, in reference to prepara- 
tion for the efforts which you make in order to turn 
sinners unto God. If the work of preparation should 
thus have acquired in your eyes a magnitude unusual 
and appalling, I can only beg you to ask whether it is 
unreasonable and unjust. Is it more than the salvation 
of a soul deserves? Is it more than such a work, to be 
carried on by such an instrument, and in the midst of 



PREPARING FOR ACTION. 79 

such difficulties, demands? Is it more than will be am- 
ply repaid 1 If it is more than you have been accus- 
tomed to make, this may not unnaturally account for 
your want both of wisdom, constancy, and success. 
You have complained much, perhaps, of these things ; 
you have appeared to lament them; you have professed 
to wish that they could be remedied. Now I just ask 
you how much you wish it. Here are methods in which, 
if you were to exercise yourself, the evils you bewail 
might, in great part at least, be removed : will you 
employ them 1 Or will you, because it may be some 
trouble to make preparation, continue to go about these 
efforts for the good of souls as heedlessly as ever 1 In 
what earthly occupation should we obtain either credit 
or success, in preparation for which we did not take 
much more pains than we habitually take for this must 
important of all pursuits'? Let us arouse ourselves 
from our supineness, and gird ourselves to this conflict 
as though we wished to be victors, and meant no longer 
to trifle witli an effort which ought to engage every 
power and all the resources we possess. 



LECTURE V. 

HABITUAL ACTION. 



Philippians ii. 15. 

Lights in the world. 

In the illustration of christian activity for the conver- 
sion of sinners to which our preceding discourses have 
been devoted, it has been my province to lead you to 
your closets, and engage you to exercises of 'stimulant 
meditation. I would fain hope — at whatever hazard, 
I must now take it for granted — that at my earnest 
entreaty you have been there, not merely contem- 
plating the work to be done, and realizing your means 
of performing it, but girding yourselves for the effort, 
and worthily resolving to commepxe it, in the strength 
of the Lord your God. I have now, therefore, to trace 
your steps from your hallowed solitudes into the thick 
and crowded world, and to imagine myself beholding 
you in your several spheres of domestic, social, or 
public life, accomplishing the purpose of your secret 
hours. You have taken your resolution; you have 
made your preparation; you are now coming into 
action. 

The subject which stands for this evening is Habi- 
tual Action. Perhaps the very term startles you. It 
is impossible, you may be ready to say, that opportu- 
nity can be found for perpetually endeavouring to turn 
sinners unto God. Such efforts certainly must be con- 
fined to appropriate seasons; and to be always at- 



HABITUAL ACTION. 81" 

tempting them must be as great an error as entirely 
to overlook them. You may be disposed to add, tbat 
ordinary Life is constituted of such an almost ceaseless 
succession of mixed and secular engagements, that 
suitable occasions for efforts of religious usefulness 
cannot be thickly scattered over its surface. I should 
hope, however, that you would be far from falling a 
victim to such a delusive imagination as this. Even 
admitting for the present, what we may hereafter find 
not to be true to any thing like the extent to which it 
has been supposed, namely, that opportunities of spe- 
cific exertion are infrequent, it is beyond question that 
there exists a wide and important scope, for habitual 
action. Living and moving in the world as it now is, 
we arc almost incessantly under the observation of ir- 
religious persons. Some of them are for the most part 
found in our very habitations, among our children, our 
servants, or our friends ; while it is obviously almost 
impossible to move beyond this limit, without mixing 
ourselves to an undcfinable extent with the same por- 
tion of mankind. Now we have shown at large in a 
former discourse,* that the exemplary manifestation of 
christian character has a direct and powerful adapta- 
tion to spiritual good: the whole sphere therefore in 
which our conduct is visible, is also a sphere in which 
usefulness is attainable. In every part of it, and at 
every moment, we may be trying to do good, by try- 
ing to be that which a christian ought to be. This 
capability of general and perpetual usefulness is 
plainly indicated by the metaphor employed in the 
text. A lamp indeed may be, and no doubt often is, 

* Individual Effort, Lrcluie IX. 



82 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

employed for the special benefit of some particular 
person or persons, who may need its assistance ; but, 
apart from such a circumstance, it is capable of an 
important general use, by being so fixed in a dark 
place as to give light to whatever passengers may 
come within the sphere of its action. In like manner, 
we are to conceive of christians, who are " lights in 
the world," as not merely diffusing a beneficial influ- 
ence occasionally, by special endeavour, but as doing 
so constantly, by the steady shining of a holy exam- 
ple, which is not and cannot be hid. 

If it should be imagined that persons in general are 
not paying sufficient attention to our deportment to 
render it influential upon them, a moment's considera- 
tion will evince that the contrary is the fact. Not to 
dwell upon the undoubted adaptation of example to in- 
struct and to convince, or upon the innumerable in- 
stances which have demonstrated its power, the fact is 
incontestable, that irreligious persons are in the habit 
of keeping a very shrewd watch on the conduct of 
professors. Our profession of being holier than they 
provokes it ; and however little it may be apparent 
while we are in company, it very often discovers itself 
by keen observations after we are gone, especially if 
any thing has occurred to afford matter for deprecia- 
tion or for censure. Now if it be true that the conduct 
of professors is strictly watched by the ungodly, this is 
the very state of mind fitted to receive the appeal which 
exemplary piety makes to the conscience. It creates 
a certainty that the influence of example will be felt, 
even apart from any opportunity of personal or pointed 
address. Here then is our scope for habitual exertion 
for the good of souls ; a scope not at all less extensive 



HABITUAL ACTION. 83 

than that through which our conduct is open to the 
observation of men. 

Without repeating what I have said on a former 
occasion respecting the general importance of this de- 
partment of labour, I shall now more particularly exhi- 
bit to you the manner in which it may be effectually 
occupied. 

The means which may be brought into bearing for 
this purpose are chiefly two : example, and conversa- 
tion. 

1. With respect to example, there are several pro- 
minent aspects of it highly deserving of attention. 

First may be noticed the general spirit of our de- 
portment. Selfishness, vanity, pride, positivity, cen- 
soriousness, frivolity, artfulness, bitterness, envy, jea- 
lousy, and many other evils, are the native fruits of a 
corrupt heart, and are largely pruduced in general so- 
ciety. Although we may now be christians indeed, 
we also once walked after the course of this world, 
and shall find too much cause to confess remaining im- 
perfection in one or other, if not in many of these 
respects. If we wish to render our example influen- 
tial to good, it should be our earnest care to detect and 
mortify these and similar evils. Humility, benevo- 
lence, candour, simplicity, and their kindred graces, 
should be cultivated by us with the most sedulous at- 
tention. A demeanour which shows no sentiment of 
self-importance or desire of self-exaltation ; a modest 
and unassuming address, a watchful and delicate re- 
gard, not only to the interests, but to the feelings of 
others, to some extent in preference of our own ; an 
unfeigned delight in others' welfare, and a prompt 
sympathy in their joys; a frank and open countenance 



84 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

which assumes no disguise, and lips which use no 
guile ; together with a careful avoidance of unneces- 
sary censure, and the common half-malicious gossip 
about other people's concerns, will not merely adorn 
our profession, but eminently tend to make our exam- 
ple winning and instructive. 

We may next refer to the regulation of the temper. 
We all know how many things are perpetually occur- 
ring to try the temper, as well as how frequently it 
breaks forth in passion, if not into rage. In this re- 
spect a constitutional infirmity attaches to many per- 
sons, which requires the more resolute guard. In few 
cases is more expected from a religious professor than 
in the control of his temper. Ill governed passions 
invariably attach to us a strong censure, while effec- 
tual self-control gains for the most part a high enco- 
mium. And if this is the case in society at large, it is 
more especially so in the domestic, or other more li- 
mited circles, in which our conduct is more closely 
observed, and the influence of our temper more directly 
felt. A whole circle maybe rendered happy or miserable 
according to the temper of almost any individual in it ; 
so that it becomes not only a conspicuous indication of 
character, but a highly influential one. Vigorous at- 
tention therefore should be directed to this subject. In 
addition to an habitual meekness and gentleness of 
manner, we should endeavour to be well guarded 
against occasional petulance and irritation. We should 
cultivate an ability to meet vexatious occurrences 
without being betrayed into fretfulness, and to bear in- 
sults without passionate emotion. I need scarcely say 
that we should more especially resolve on being mas- 
ters of ourselves in reference to those little things, 



HABITUAL ACTION. 85 

those really groundless causes of irritation, from which 
after all many of the most violent bursts of passion 
arise. 

To an amiable deportment and a well regulated 
temper, should be added a devotional habit. I do not 
mean by this term such an absorption of mind in reli- 
gious contemplation as either to withdraw us from, or 
to unfit us for, an attention to occupations of an earthly 
kind ; if the mind of any pe: on— it is by no means a 
frequent fault — were in such a state as this, it would 
undoubtedly be his duty to seek after a better regula- 
tion of it. But without approaching to such an evil, 
it is obvious that, in the course of ordinary life, our 
general habit and manner may be more or less devout. 
Religion may be used like the garments which are 
worn only upon special occasions ; it should rather re- 
semble those which are worn every day alike. Divine 
things may be treated with such evident neglect, as to 
give any observer an impression that they hold no im- 
portant place in our regard, and furnish none of our 
principal pleasures ; and it is plain that such an im- 
pression must tend to confirm a disesteem of religion 
in the mind of the observer himself. If, on the con- 
trary, we cultivate a manifest acknowledgment of 
God, a spirit of gratitude for his incessant bounties, 
a readiness to turn our thoughts and converse towards 
him on all suitable opportunities, as though religion 
were really our element and delight, our favourite 
companion, our perpetual help, and strength, and con- 
solation, such an exhibition of character can hardly fail 
to produce a beneficial effect. It need not for a moment 
be supposed that such a habit would identify itself with 
an austere or gloomy temper. Far from it. However it 



86 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

might check levity, which we suppose will not be 
considered as an evil of great magnitude, it would 
inspire placidity, which is far more amiable ; and it 
would tend to produce what is always to be admired, 
the well-tempered union of gravity with cheerfulness. 
It is highly important, further, to maintain the prac- 
tical exhibition of right principles of action. The 
occasions are of continual occurrence which call for 
the exercise of integrity in various forms, whether of 
truth, fidelity to engagements, or honesty, strictly 
and largely understood. What deficiencies in this 
direction are current among men of the world, is too 
well known; and it is a direction in which they are 
particularly observant of professors of religion. I may 
add that in this respect professors are not likely pecu- 
liarly to excel. Practices of this sort are so blended 
with their interest in the most tangible forms, so en- 
forced by former habit, and sanctioned by prevailing 
example, that the entire renunciation of them may be 
expected to require an effort. But the effort is de- 
manded, and should be made. A shuffling, evasive, 
double-faced manner of transacting business; a method 
of saying what you do not seriously mean, and of not 
doing what you have said ; a habit of flying from your 
word, or failing in it ; of taking advantage where you 
can, and being strictly honest only when you cannot 
help it ; these and many such things should be thrown 
to the utmost distance from the dealings of every 
christian. A principle of high and sustained honour, 
a strict and unbending integrity, should be your in- 
variable guide, and should not only be your guide in 
fact, but in appearance. Let every man be convinced 
that you are of most scrupulous integrity, that every 



HABITUAL ACTION. 87 

transaction is not only straight-forward, but transpa- 
rent ; that no pressure of adverse circumstances will 
lead you to an evasion, or a meanness ; that he may 
trust you with property to any amount, and that your 
word is as valid as an oath, and as firm as your bond. 
It is not merely to the more considerable transactions 
of business that I apply this remark; it is capable of an 
important application to the very smallest, and to those 
who buy or borrow, as well as to those who sell. — 
These are things which worldly people know must 
spring from the power of religion, and they will make 
our profession appeal to the heart. 

In order to render our character exemplary, it will 
be further needful to bear in mind the relations in 
which we stand. These are obviously of great variety ; 
and all of them have appropriate and congruous dis- 
positions. The character can have no appearance of 
consistency if these dispositions are not cultivated. 
Consistency, indeed, lies much more in manifesting 
the dispositions which are peculiarly appropriate to us, 
than those which, however excellent in themselves, 
have no such distinguished propriety. If a man be a 
parent, whatever may be his virtues in other respects, 
if he be a bad father, this one fault attaches to him a 
deep and indellible stain. It is the relations we bear 
which throw us out most prominently into public view, 
and hence the manner in which we fill them has a 
very large proportionate influence on the estimate 
and effect of our character. Every relation we sustain, 
therefore, is worthy of a separate study ; nor should we 
be satisfied till we enter into the spirit of it, and excel 
in its appropriate graces. The husband and the wife 
respectively should strive to manifest the mutual af- 



83 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

fection, respect, subserviency, and support, as well 
as the relative subordination, which their union re- 
quires. Parents have to show a practical devotedness. 
to their children's welfare, wisely regulated alike in 
respect of indulgent fondness, and fruitless severity. 
Children likewise have obligations of great peculiarity. 
In combination with the vivacity and aspirations of 
youth, they have to cultivate a filial reverence for 
age, as well as a habit of ready submission to paren- 
tal counsels, and affectionate concealment of parental 
failings. The circle which is occupied by brothers 
and skrtftrs of the same family needs a strong guard 
upon feelings of self-will, petulance, suspicion, and 
jealousy. In the station occupied by a master or mis- 
tress, care should be taken to exercise authority not 
only without oppression in substance, but without 
harshness in manner ; to cherish a kind regard to the 
welfare of servants, as well as to exact their labour ; 
and to show that we take no advantage of their infe- 
riority of station, to inflict either an injury on their 
rights, or a woimd upon their feelings. With servants, 
on the other hand, it should be a particular endeavour 
to show all good fidelity ; to identify themselves with 
the interest of the employer; not purloining; not 
answering again; not in idleness, disobedience, or 
wastefulness ; not in talebearing, or violation of confi- 
dence ; but by a steady course of kind, faithful, and 
willing service, to exemplify the spirit of their station. 
Without multiplying references further, let me now 
repeat, that the cultivation and exercise of these and 
other dispositions appropriate to our several stations, 
is not merely of general importance, but is especially 
adapted to render our example useful to others. If we 



HABITUAL ACTION. 89 

wish to hinder our own usefulness, we can scarcely do 
it more effectually than by some considerable defect in 
this direction. Be a tyrannical father, a wilful child, 
a hard master, an impertinent servant, and the ten- 
dency of your example to do good will speedily be re- 
duced to nothing. 

Once more : we are all of us liable to be observed 
under different aspects, and we should take care to 
appear consistent in them all. We are to be seen not 
merely in the family, but often in the social circle, 
and sometimes in more public walks. All these 
changes require from us corresponding diversities of 
conduct, as they bring different phases of character 
into view, and put us to the test in different points. 
Care will be well bestowed in cultivating the fitness 
appropriate to every separate sphere, and the habitual 
watchfulness which may give unity and harmony to 
our appearance in them all. It will be a grievous 
thing if, with whatever propriety of behaviour in com- 
parative privacy, we are unguarded and inconsistent 
in company; or if, with whatever seeming excellency 
abroad, we throw off restraint at home. Private, social, 
and public life, engagements religious and secular, 
should demonstrate us to be the same persons ; actu- 
ated in all cases by the same principles, aiming at the 
same ends, and maintaining the same government of 
ourselves. I need not spend a moment in showing 
that such an example as this will be powerfully elo- 
quent of the worth of piety. Be such as I have de- 
scribed, and you will deserve the appellation of " lights 
in the world." 

2. The endeavours which may be thus habitually 
made for the conversion of sinners by the force of ex- 
i* 



90 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

ample, may be rendered considerably more influential 
by a well directed conversation. The current of our 
words, indeed, is one principal method of exhibiting 
that of our feeling ; and so far as the tenor of conver- 
sation is simply illustrative of our character and prin- 
ciples, it may be considered as included in the obser- 
vations already made. But in the general intercourse 
of life a further use may be made of the same instru- 
ment, with a view to spiritual good. What I mean is, 
that current conversation, without any specific object 
or personal address, may be impregnated largely and 
influentially with instructive and beneficial matter. 

I am by no means disposed to maintain that our 
conversation should always be religious, or to banish 
from social intercourse topics of public or private inter- 
est, or matters of business or politics, literature or 
science ; but, without approaching to such an extreme, 
or infringing in the least degree on the measure of at- 
tention which may justly be elaimed for such subjects, 
it must be obvious, I conceive, that a much ampler 
leaven of useful tendency might be infused into con- 
versation than ordinarily pervades it. Let us only re- 
collect for a moment how the portions of time pass 
during which the course of conversation is quite at our 
own option. How much of them is occupied in speak- 
ing of the merest trifles, as the accidents of the 
weather or the wind ; how much in an absolutely tri- 
vial chit-chat, furnished by the slightest incidents of 
the passing moment ; how much in a sort of desperate 
effort to ward off an, impending silence by saying 
something, though one has nothing to say ; how much 
in retailing what one has seen or heard of others, de- 
serving no better name than gossip, and very often a 



HABITUAL ACTION. 91 

much worse ; how much in little puns and witticisms, 
or strokes of satire, having no better object than merely 
to create a smile ; how much in the narration of ludi- 
crous stories, which are thought to answer admirably 
if they produce a hearty laugh ; how much, in a word, 
in any thing and every thing but useful conversation ! 
Or let us each call ourselves to account on the same 
score,, Let us ask ourselves what efforts we have been 
in the habit of making to render conversation benefi- 
cial. When did we think of furnishing ourselves with 
useful matter, and cherish the purpose of introducing 
it whenever it might be practicable? When did we 
try to stem the current of trivial discourse, and turn it 
into a profitable channel 1 Perhaps never. We may 
stand convicted of having invariably resigned ourselves 
to the stream, if we have not even augmented its 
force. Or if we have done otherwise, it has surely 
been with far less frequency and with far less vigour, 
than would have afforded us satisfaction in the re- 
view. 

Now if these things be so, here is plainly an enlarg- 
ed view of our scope for habitual exertion for spiritual 
good. We are perpetually conversing in the hearing 
of irreligious persons ; and the topics to which a large 
portion of our conversation may be, not only unexcep- 
tionably, but most excellently directed, are precisely 
such as are adapted to their good. Probably much ig- 
norance or want of information exists among them ; 
perhaps much prejudice t^r misunderstanding; perhaps 
much perplexity or doubt ; perhaps much indecision or 
fear ; perhaps much hostility to the truth. Weighty 
sentiments are not to be supposed to be inoperative 
when they are not connected with a personal and 



92 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

pointed address ; they have always their appropriate 
power, and sometimes a greater efficacy when pre- 
sented in a cursory and general view. If therefore 
we really do wish to be useful, a line of operation for 
every hour, and almost every moment, is clearly mark- 
ed out to us. Let us make it our study to charge 
habitual conversation with beneficial matter ; that it 
may resemble a stream whose current has run over beds 
of gold, and deposites the precious grains on the whole 
region through which it passes. 

One material step towards the accomplishment of 
this design will be taken, if, after allowing due atten- 
tion to lighter topics, we resolve to omit from our con- 
versation every thing which is not profitable. Such 
a resolution might impose upon us occasionally an un- 
welcome and somewhat singular taciturnity ; but it is 
better to say nothing than to say what is useless. Be- 
sides, it is only by such a method, perhaps, that we 
shall discern how large a portion of conversation is 
open to the injection of better themes, and generate 
within ourselves an effectual impulse to the effort. 
While we allow ourselves to converse trivially, w T e 
shall make little progress in the art of conversing pro- 
fitably. Let me recommend to you therefore the reso- 
lution, when you have nothing appropriate or useful to 
say, to say nothing. Make a determined excision from 
your discourse of all trivialities, witticisms, gossip, and 
jests. Give no indulgence to a vein of satire, or a 
sense of the ridiculous. Tafre no delight in setting a 
company in a roar of laughter. All such propensities 
are better mortified, and the very effort of mortifying 
them will do you good. 



HABITUAL ACTION. 93 

Your care should be directed in the next place to the 
filling up the vacuum thus produced. Expelling the 
frivolous and ludicrous from your conversation, study- 
to introduce instructive matter in its stead. It may 
seem difficult, but it will not be so in reality, if your 
own heart is well regulated and near to God. Out of 
the fullness of the heart the mouth speaketh ; and one 
grand source of the vanity of your discourse in times 
past you will find to have been the too prevalent vani- 
ty of your mind. If your mind be serious and solemnly 
impressed with divine things, you will find little diffi- 
culty in giving conversation a useful turn. Serious 
topics will be the first that occur to you, and those of 
which it will be most natural and easy to you to speak; 
while an abiding sense of their importance will pro- 
vide an impulse sufficient to break through the little 
hindrances which may resist. In the first instance, 
therefore, be yourself serious : in the next, be thought- 
ful. Make it an object to have your mind stored with 
subjects of an interesting and beneficial kind ; such as 
you may readily glean from the source of your own 
scriptural or other reading, or derive from the exer- 
cises of your own mind, or from observation of the 
world. Cultivate also a wise method of introducing 
them. Strive to sustain a useful conversation that has 
once been begun. Do not discourage yourself by an 
apprehended want of talent ; such conversations never 
droop but for want of courage ; and if you have not 
always stores of knowledge to impart, you may, often, 
by well applied questions to other persons, open richer 
fountains than your own. 

Having thus exhibited to you the principal means to 
be used in habitual exertion for spiritual good, I have 



94 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

a few remarks to add respecting the manner in which 
they should be employed. 

In many cases endeavours of this class must be alto- 
gether general and indirect. In general company, of 
whom we know nothing, our concern can only be to 
maintain an example and a conversation as consistent 
and useful as, under the circumstances, they can possi- 
bly be made. In this method much good may be done. 
But there are many cases also, in which, with a know- 
ledge more or less extensive of those in whose pre- 
sence we are, we may be able, without any personal 
address or pointed reference, to give, both our example 
and our conversation an important and appropriate 
bearing. If we speak of the pleasures of religion, we 
may present them in one aspect to the young, in ano- 
ther to the aged ; and, if we are aware that those who 
hear us are in distress, to them in a third. Before per- 
sons of amiable character and moral habits, we may 
speak of the necessity of an inward change ; before 
persons of reckless profligacy, of the force of righteous 
obligation, or the solemnities of judgment to come ; 
before those who are entering on life, of the necessity 
of guarding against its snares ; and before those who 
are closing it, of the instruction to be derived from its 
review. But the recital of cases would be endless ; 
and it is needless ; since it is manifest that conversa- 
tion may, with great facility and effect, be directed to 
warn the thoughtless, to relieve the doubtful, to cheer 
the desponding, to quicken the sluggish, and to almost 
any other beneficial end which circumstances may 
present. Nor is it conversation alone which can be 
turned to this excellent account. Much may be done 
by mere example in the same way, by setting it stu- 



HABITUAL ACTION. 95 

diously in opposition to evils we may wish to check, or 
by prominently exhibiting* virtues we may wish to re- 
commend. If you are w T ich those w T ho think religion 
melancholy, you may try more especially to show your- 
self happy ; or if you are with those who accuse pro- 
fessors of laxity, you may take the more pains to exhi- 
bit a delicacy of conscientious rectitude. 

After these observations, dear brethren, I am not 
afraid that you will accuse me of not having presented 
to you a wide scope for habitual exertion for the good 
of souls: I am much more apprehensive that you may 
shrink from the magnitude and the constancy of the 
effort. You are saying, perhaps, • What an arduous 
undertaking ! What perpetual labour ! Is there to be 
no time of ease, no period of relaxation I To be always 
trying to do good ! ! ' I know indeed that the course I 
have recommended may interfere much with our 
habits of ease and levity, and self-indulgence ; that it 
may require strenuous efforts, and lead us into some 
difficulties. But why, after all, should I suspect you 
of making these complaints 1 I am to suppose myself 
addressing you, not as slothful christians, but as active 
ones ; resolved to waste none of your master's goods, 
but to make full proof of your ministry. You are not 
inquiring how you may indulge yourselves, but how 
you may be faithful to your Lord. It is enough for 
you, therefore, to have shown you where and how 
labour is to be done for God. You are not the people 
to refuse or hesitate. It is not in vain that in retire- 
ment you have disciplined your hearts, and devoted 
your lives to the Saviour ; you will go into the world, 
and you will live unto his praise. 



96 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

Or if you do hesitate, ]et me ask you why. If the 
service of God and the souls of men were a hated em- 
ploy, an unwelcome drudgery, then I could imagine 
how too much of it might be disagreeable to you : but, 
upon this supposition, I never should have wasted 
breath in exhorting you to it at all. I have been 
speaking all the while upon a supposition totally dif- 
ferent; namely, that the service of God and the saving 
of souls was your delight, and among the very highest 
delights this world can afford you. If this be not true, 
correct me ; if it be, rebuke yourselves. Of what 
worldly joy does a large measure fill you with so much 
aversion? If an effectual plan had been presented to 
you for turning every moment to the acquisition of 
wealth, would it have made you exclaim in equal me- 
lancholy, ' Alas ! to be all the day long acquiring 
riches ! ' Ought you not rather to esteem it a most 
happy circumstance that your whole life, including all 
its fleeting moments, may be applied with success to 
such a blessed and invaluable end] Would you really 
rather that efforts for the conversion of sinners were 
confined to the comparatively infrequent occasions on 
which they can be specifically made, and that the 
great mass of life, and all its fragments, should be con- 
signed to an utter fruitlessness] If such a representa- 
tion were to be made to you, would you not be ready 
to exclaim, * I hope not ;' and to set yourself in action 
to try whether some part of life's waste might not be 
reclaimed from such afflictive barrenness ] You should 
rather rejoice that the whole of it is set before you as 
a fruitful field. Every moment you may be sowing 
for God : in the morning sow your seed, and in the 
evening hold not your hand. 



HABITUAL ACTION. 97 

Do you feel that it is difficult ; that it is more than 
you shall be able to do 1 Be assured that the whole 
difficulty of it lies in the carnality of your own heart. 
Nothing considerable is to be referred to want of talent. 
Persons of the very smallest capacity and information 
have been eminent in this department. And so will 
any of you be who will try. Of course it needs that the 
heart should be kept near to God, and deeply imbued 
with love to Christ ; but this is nothing peculiar. This 
is necessary for other objects, and on other grounds; it 
is a primary matter of christian duty, which may not on 
any account be neglected. And it requires nothing 
more than this, in order to keep up the continual aim, 
the observant watchfulness, the holy and grateful 
endeavour, of which I have been speaking. Clearly, 
therefore, you need not despair. You should rather 
resolve to be fit for any thing for which consistent and 
eminent piety may fit you. 

If, after all, I should fail in any case to engage the 
active resolution I desire, I only ask you, dear brethren, 
whether any of you will say that you will not aim at 
this improvement of life. Are you resolved to spend 
life idly, and to waste the powers which might be ap- 
plied to such invaluable ends ? Do not think to evade 
this question by attempting to leave the matter unde- 
cided, or in a state of suspense. Either you will or 
you will not thus labour for God ; and you are this mo- 
ment resolved either upon the one or the other. If you 
are not determined for labour, you are determined 
against it ; and all the pains you may take to hide this 
determination from your own eyes, only shows that 
you are conscious of a wrong you will neither acknow- 
ledge or reform. Can you bear to remain in so hollow 

K 



98 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

and suspicious a state of heart 1 Will not he that 
searcheth the heart estimate it aright, when he calls 
it a spirit of ingratitude and treachery ] Reconciled 
rebel ! Redeemed sinner ! Flee from the remotest sus- 
picion of such a crime, and by all that is obligatory, 
grateful, or sincere, place yourself among the devoted 
band who are resolved to shine as "lights in the 
world." 

If such be your aim, I may perhaps not unprofitably 
warn you, that one of your greatest practical difficul- 
ties will be to maintain an habitual remembrance of 
your object. We are so much accustomed to be about 
our own business, and on many occasions are follow- 
ing it with such intense occupation of mind, that we 
too readily forget, not merely our obligation and de- 
sign to do good to others, but almost the very fact 
that we are living in their sight. The prevalence of 
such forgetfulness will obviously be quite destructive 
of the end in view, and, as a matter of practical wis- 
dom, any thing should be done to correct it. With 
this view, make it a part of your morning exercises in 
retirement to impress upon yourself a vivid recollec- 
tion of the fact that you are about to spend a day in the 
presence of ungodly persons, whose good your exam- 
ple and general conversation should promote. In addi- 
tion to this, take such opportunities as the course of the 
day may afford you (and a moment is sufficient for the 
purpose,) of recalling your attention to the same topic, 
and of casting your eye around you, to observe who 
are spectators of your conduct, and what is the proba- 
ble aspect of your conduct in their eye. Such efforts 
as these may be a little troublesome, though scarcely 
so if your heart be right ; but they will be abundantly 






HABITUAL ACTION. 99 

beneficial, and will go far towards rendering you in 
fact the light in a dark place which you desire to be. 
To remember this desire is almost the same thing as 
to fulfil it. The memory of it will serve, like the 
gunner's hand, to apply the spark to the materials 
which are always prepared to attest its power. 



LECTURE VI. 

SPECIFIC ACTIOX. 



Psalm cxix. 60.* 

I made haste, and delayed not. 

Supposing you to be prepared for action, dear bre- 
thren, it was my aim in the last lecture to exhibit to 
you the methods of habitual exertion for the good of 
souls ; methods by which you may at all times, and in 
all circumstances, pursue this important end, whether 
men will hear or whether they will forbear. If, how- 
ever, the spirit of the x\ctive Christian be within you, 
I may be sure that, with whatever diligence you make 
habitual efforts, you do not confine yourselves to them. 
You do not forget that you are surrounded by opportu- 
nities, more or less numerous and ample, of direct and 
specific exertion for the same end. Though you can- 
not be always communicating religious knowledge, 
you may be so sometimes ; and whatever may be the 
frequency with which such opportunities occur to you, 
a spirit of consistent dedication to your Lord will 
clearly lead you to improve them. I hope I may re- 
gard you as entering upon the duty of specific as well 
as habitual exertion for the conversion of sinners; and 
as prepared to receive with interest, and practically to 
apply, the observations to which the subject of the 
evening leads. 



SPECIFIC ACTION. 101 

I need not stay to cast another glance at the various 
opportunities of direct religious instruction which 
may occur ; but one of them, family worship, possesses 
so much peculiar interest and importance, that I can- 
not refrain from making on it a few remarks. 

I suppose, dear brethren, I may take it for granted, 
that every pious man among you, and every pious wo- 
man also, presiding over a household, maintains family 
worship. To suppose the contrary, would be to sup- 
pose a measure of sinful neglect and inconsistency in 
the highest degree afflictive. What I have now more 
particularly in view is the manner of conducting this 
exercise. Of course you maintain the reading of the 
more instructive and profitable portions of the holy 
scriptures, and the united offering of serious and ap- 
propriate supplications. But I wish to recommend to 
you something further than this ; namely, the practice 
of addressing serious observations to your household 
when assembled at your family altar. It is not neces- 
sary that this should be done invariably ; allowance 
may be made for circumstances inducing and justifying 
an occasional omission. Nor need it be done at great 
length, a few observations, perhaps, being more con- 
ducive to usefulness in such an exercise, than many. 
Neither is it indispensable that it should be of the na- 
ture of scriptural exposition, to which perhaps you 
might conceive yourselves incompetent ; the very 
plainest observations of a serious kind being suited to 
the purpose, whether connected with the portion of 
scripture which you have been reading or not. 

The circumstances of your household when assem- 
bled for worship afford not only an unquestionable, but 
a most advantageous opportunity for such an exercise. 



102 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

They are then withdrawn from their ordinary occupa- 
tions of domestic service, their attention is expressly 
challenged to sacred objects, and the whole habitation 
is, as far as practicable, reduced to a state of repose 
and quietness, adapted to favour the exercise of bene- 
ficial reflection. The various members of the family 
are then especially gathered around you as its head, 
and more particularly as presiding over it in a reli- 
gious view. fc By conducting the worship of the family, 
you officiate as its priest ; in reading the divine word, 
you become the mouth of God to them ; and in suppli- 
cation you become their mouth towards God : In these 
circumstances, therefore, what can be more fit than 
that you should speak out of the fullness of your heart, 
and press home upon these waiting auditors the great 
things of God I Is it not a scene pre-eminently invit- 
ing to such an effort, and, as it were, created on pur- 
pose for it 1 And if this be omitted, does not the chief 
thing seem to be wanting, the beauty and crown, the 
life and soul, of the entire service] Here the whole 
influence of your parental and magisterial relations 
would throw its weight into your instructions, since 
you would speak not as the friend merely, but as the 
master and the parent. Your knowledge of individual 
character, and of the mental exercises, dangers, or ne- 
cessities of each, would give a most beneficial adapta- 
tion to your words, and enable you to address to each, 
by character, if not by name, encouragement or admo- 
nition of invaluable appropriateness ; while the affec- 
tion which your family bear you (and, if you fill your 
station like a christian, this will not be small,) will 
give additional weight to the words which fall from 
your lips, and make them sink perhaps more deeply 
than any others into the heart. 



SPECIFIC ACTION. 103 

Now it is an established and admitted principle that 
the existence of an opportunity for useful exertion, 
creates an obligation to exertion. Every opportunity 
of doing good ought to be improved ; so therefore 
ought this which has now been described. As a pious 
head of a family, you profess that you desire to be use- 
ful among them, and to wish, perhaps, either that you 
knew better how to be so, or that you had more 
opportunities of being so. But where have you been 
looking 1 Behold the opportunities immediately before 
you. If you have family worship twice in the day, 
which in the great majority of instances may be the 
case, here are at least seven hundred opportunities of 
usefulness to the souls of your household every year, of 
which, perhaps, you have hitherto made no improve- 
ment at all ! Will you improve them from henceforth ] 
Or do you mean to attach to your apparent anxiety the 
character of mere pretence, by neglecting so obvious 
a method of exertion \ 

You may probably hesitate under a sense of the dif- 
ficulty of the exercise, and of your own incompetency. 
If I were urging you to any thing which required a 
peculiar talent, I would admit the force of this objec- 
tion : but it has really no foundation whatever. There 
is nothing frightful or overwhelming in your audience ; 
an audience composed entirely of your children and 
servants, or other domesticated persons, with whom 
you are upon terms, not only of perfect familiarity, 
but of tender love. You are continually speaking to 
them with the utmost freedom upon innumerable other 
matters, and it is past belief that you can be incompe- 
tent to speak to them in a similar way about religion. 
What insuperable obstacle is there to your saying to 



104 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

them — ' Dear members of my household, who must 
soon be in eternity, and for whom I must give an ac- 
count, how awfully important it is for you to seek the 
Lord ! Are you seeking him 1 And, if you are not, 
will you not seek him while he may be found, and call 
upon him while he is near V 

I acknowledge indeed that you may find a difficulty, 
and perhaps a great one ; bat I am convinced that it 
will arise much more out of the state of your own 
heart and your want of practice, than out of the nature 
of the exercise itself. As for the timidity and tremor 
which may arise from want of practice, it is perfectly 
childish to think of giving way to it. There are few 
things which we do not perform with some tremulous- 
ness the first time ; but we know by multiplied expe- 
rience that this inconvenience speedily vanishes. The 
obstruction arising from the state of the heart is of a 
more serious kind ; but this also should and may be 
overcome. We do not feel deeply enough for the eter- 
nal welfare of our household ! And how long is this 
sinful condition to endure 1 The remedy of it is obvious. 
Spend but five minutes every morning, before you en- 
ter your family circle, in realizing their spiritual con- 
dition, in stirring up yourself to care for their souls, in 
thinking what you may say for their good, and in be- 
seeching God to make you a blessing to them, and I 
will venture to affirm that all your difficulties will 
vanish, like chaff before the wind. Instead of finding 
it impossible to open your lips, you will find it impos- 
sible to restrain them. 

But it is time that we should return to the general 
subject of this discourse, and to observations applica- 
ble to all those who may be engaging in specific en- 



SPECIFIC ACTION. 105 

deavours for the salvation of souls. Accept from me, 

dear brethren, in your arduous and often perplexing 

work, a few remarks, first, on the method you should 

\ pursue, and, next, on the dispositions you should 

exercise. 

I. In explaining to you the method you should pur- 

r sue in your endeavours to turn a sinner to God, I may 

Anticipate your glad attention; inasmuch as amidst 

r your various embarrassments, you may have often 

: lamented that you knew not how to carry on, or even 

1 to begin, the work of religious instruction. 

T suppose you, then, for the sake of rendering my 
* counsels more distinct, to be entering into conver- 
sation with an irreligious man for his conversion. Now 
I hope I need not here again enjoin what I have alrea- 
- dy pressed upon you,* namely, to aim directly at his 
conversion, and at nothing short of it ; and to frame 
5 all your exhortations in conformity with the scrip- 
tures of truth. I will rather enter into some detail 
3 of the process you should seek to accomplish. 

1. Your first object should be to convey a just know- 
ledge of duty. It is plain that this is the beginning 
of all valuable religious knowledge ; and in all cases 
it is of admitted importance to begin at the beginning. 
Without doing so, there is little prospect of a satis- 
factory progress. Apart from correct view? of duty, there 
can be no adequate, and scarcely any rational, conviction 
of sin ; and, apart from conviction of sin, no due apprecia- 
tion of salvation. Nor may it by any means be taken for 
granted that, upon so simple and elementary a subject, a 
sufficient degree of knowledge exists ; upon the contrary, 

* Individual Effort, Lect. X. p. 223. 



106 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

facts abundantly prove that men are as ignorant upon 
this point as they are upon any other ; and, in truth, that 
this is the radical and fundamental ignorance, which 
throws its baneful shadow over all other subjects of 
instruction. Nor is it ignorance alone which prevails 
in reference to the principles of human obligation and 
duty. Enmity shelters itself under cover of the dark- 
ness; and there is even a greater unwillingness to 
admit, than difficulty in perceiving them. 

As I have said, therefore, let your first object be to 
impart a just knowledge of duty. In this respect begin 
at the beginning, and show the person with whom you 
converse why, and on what ground, he is under obli- 
gation towards God. For this purpose you have to set 
before him the fact that God is his maker, and to in- 
struct him that out of his relation to God there arises 
an obligation to love him, or to treat him kindly. 
This phrase, treating God kindly, I purposely use as 
expressive of the love to God which is the primary 
duty of man. It is the love of benevolence, which, in 
other words, is kindness, — exalting the idea of kind- 
ness towards God as much as you please, by considera- 
tions drawn from its greatness and glory. You are 
thus prepared to show a sinner that his duty consists, 
not merely in avoiding outward wickedness, or in 
doing good works, but in cherishing a right state of 
heart, namely, a uniform and prevalent kindness to- 
wards God, manifest in that care for his honour and 
concern to please him, which are characteristic of 
such a state of mind. 

If it should seem tedious to take this method, or be 
deemed that more rapid and effectual progress might 
be made by coming at once to charges of sin, or by 



SPECIFIC ACTION. 107 

, immediately discoursing of the love and sufferings of 
L our Lord Jesus, without depreciating these endeavours, 
L I may safely affirm that their success is very liable to 
\ be much more specious than real. A charge of sin to 
I a man who does not know the ground of his obligation 
] or the scope of his duty, if it be not altogether an un- 
. intelligible thing, may be an irritating rather than an 
L humbling one ; while the tears which you may cause 
to flow by details of the sufferings of Christ may have 
little connexion with moral emotions, in one who has 
yet to learn his need of a saviour. On the other hand,, 
although you may advance with seeming slowness 
i when yx>ur labour is directed to establish the first prin- 
ciples of moral science, every measure of progress 
that you actually gain is real and solid ; of substan- 
tial value in itself, and fitted to be the foundation of 
an excellent and durable superstructure. In building 
a house, no man ultimately regrets the time or pains 
expended in laying a firm foundation. One of the 
principal reasons, perhaps, pf the lamented instability 
of apparent converts, may 'loe found in the defective 
manner in which these fundamental truths have been 
learned. 

2. To a just knowledge of duty, you will of course 
be concerned to add a deep conviction of sin. The 
general necessity of this is obvious ; since without it 
there can be no rational apprehension of danger, or of 
the need and value of salvation. Every thing desira- 
ble in the subsequent exercises of the mind, or in the 
ultimate formation of character, will bear a proportion 
to the depth and extent of this important process. 

Without insisting further, however, on the gene- 
ral necessity of producing adequate conviction of sin, 



108 ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

it may be more material to point out the course which 
such efforts should take. And here it is principally 
important, that you should effectually open to the per- 
son with whom you are conversing " the plague of his 
own heart." You may find it easy to adduce instances 
of outward sin ; you may conceive it to be the most 
obvious and effectual manner of bringing home the 
charge of actual guilt, and you may be more particu- 
larly tempted to act on this principle in cases of gross 
profligacy, where immoralities constitute the grand 
aspect of character : but in all cases, if you do not en- 
tirely avoid this method you should lay on it very little 
stress. Make no use of the sins of drunkenness, lying, 
profanity, sabbath-breaking, or any other outward sin, 
but as an occasion of tracing up these acknowledged 
wrongs to the source of evil within the breast. If you 
do not exhibit and establish the fact that the heart is 
evil, that the indulged passions and cherished purposes 
of the soul are wrong, you do nothing towards the 
production of any valuable effect. A man who does 
not know and acknowledge this, neither acknowledges 
nor knows his real criminality, and can never take 
his right stand before God. You should therefore be 
very particular in this respect ; and press with ear- 
nestness and perseverance the instructions and illus- 
trations by which this often strange, and always un- 
welcome truth, may be fully manifested to the un- 
derstanding, and riveted on the conscience. 

In this effort you will derive much assistance from 
the previous instruction I have recommended, as to the 
ground and nature of man's duty to God. What prin- 
cipally leads men to think that outward evils are their 
only sins, is the antecedent notion that outward right- 



SPECIAL ACTION, 109 

eousness is their only duty. If they are honest, and 
sober, and kind, and a few such things, they conceive 
that they fulfil all their duty ; and hence, very natu- 
rally, when you attempt to convict them of sin, their 
ideas are confined to some breach of these obligations : 
but, if you succeed in making them understand that 
their duty to God lies in cherishing a kind state of 
heart towards him, your way is prepared for showing 
the existence of sin apart from outward conduct, and 
for demonstrating that inward source of iniquity to 
which all the streams are to be referred. 

To those of you who have made any attempts to 
convict a sinner of wickedness of heart, I need not say 
that it is a conclusion which a thousand efforts are 
made to avoid. Innumerable pretexts, excuses, and 
evasions are resorted to, in order to take off the edge 
of conviction, and to cover or extenuate what can no 
longer be denied. It is for you to observe and to fol- 
low all these shiftings, and to see that the object 
of your compassion shall have 'no cloke* for his 
sin. While a man contends that his heart is good, 
that he means well, that he wishes to be good, and 
would be so if he could, but that he cannot, or main- 
tains any of the large class of fallacies akin to these, 
little or no progress is made in convincing him of sin. 
Whatever addition may have been made to his know- 
ledge, no change is induced in the state of his heart; 
he retains all his pride, he cherishes every iniquity, he 
hastens to his ruin. However tedious or difficult it 
may be, therefore, to pursue the fugitive into succes- 
sive and apparently endless subterfuges, and to fight 
battle after battle at successive points of defence, all 
the value you attach to his salvation urges you to per- 

h 



HO THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

severe. Leave him to be the victim of any one of these 
fallacies, and he is undone. 

You should remember, also, that when you have in- 
duced an acknowledgment of sin, your work in this 
respect is not completed. It is indispensable to inspire 
humiliation. There is a vast capacity in fallen man 
of making an unfeeling acknowledgment of the most 
touching truths ; and so you will find it with the fact 
of his own criminality. A sinner who may at length 
admit every thing that you wish, may yet continue 
obdurate and unaffected. If you examine into the rea- 
son of this, you will find that it is because he is thought- 
less ; because the fact of his criminality, though ac- 
knowledged, is not reflected upon, or contemplated in 
the light adapted to render it influential, It remains 
for you, therefore, to bring the acknowledged fact 
again and again before his eyes, and to press home 
upon him the various considerations by which the evil 
of sin may be exhibited. You have to speak of the 
justice and force of the obligation which is broken, of 
the wretchedness which is introduced into the heart, 
of the awful and endless displeasure of the almighty 
judge ; and in addition to these topics, of the inestima- 
ble sacrifice which has been offered in expiation. The 
bearing of the last of these is of peculiar importance, 
inasmuch as it is pre-eminently adapted to melt the 
heart by the display of unutterable love. It sets home 
conviction without an aspect of severity. But in order 
that it may produce this effect, it is necessary that it 
should be wisely and clearly put, and that the suffer- 
ings of Christ should be so associated with the just de- 
sert of our sins as to become to us the real measure of 
our own criminality. 



SPECIAL ACTION. Ill 

3. Having proceeded thus far, your next object will 
be to induce a right appreciation of the Saviour. 

Safe as it might be deemed, experience proves that 
it is not safe, to assume that every person knows the 
general character, or even the name of the Saviour of 
sinners; while it is certain that multitudes who are 
much less ignorant than this, have no correct ideas of 
the nature or design of his work. Besides this, there 
is ordinarily found, in connexion even with enlarged 
scriptural knowledge, an immediate and obstinate ten- 
dency to self-dependence and self-righteousness. No 
sooner are anxieties respecting salvation awakened, 
than relief is sought from purposes of amendment, 
from exercises of prayer, or from some similar source, 
Against this evil it is of the utmost importance to 
guard. These are but delusive hopes, but refugees of 
lies; and those who betake themselves to an insecure 
refuge are in as imminent peril as those who seek no 
refuge at all. 

Now in order to exhibit the Lord Jesus Christ to a 
sinner in his supreme and exclusive excellency, it is 
necessary to make strong and painful statements re- 
specting the utter helplessness of his own condition. An 
awakened sinner finds his situation awful, and his 
feelings impel him, blindly no doubt, to do something 
for its amelioration. In this effort he does himself no 
good, while he entirely overlooks the all-sufficient Sa- 
viour. Nothing can be more important, therefore, 
than the strongest and most direct statements that all 
such efforts are useless, and that no advanc# whatever 
is made towards acceptance with God by any amount, 
or by any continuance of them. 

Such a statement as this falls, and not altogether 



112 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

unnaturally, like something harsh and incredible upon 
a sinner's ear. He is ready to say, perhaps, • How hard 
is thi3 ! God is displeased with me for having done wrong; 
but he will not be pleased with me if I do right. Though 
I have been sinful in time past, I am now doing the 
very best I can, and surely I may expect a being so 
kind and merciful as God is to be satisfied with this, 
or if he is not, what can I do more!' Now this lan- 
guage, though containing much error, contains also 
some truth. God is kind and merciful ; sufficiently so, 
not merely to welcome to his friendship sinners who 
do the best they can, but sinners who do not ; a truth 
which it is of the highest importance to maintain un- 
questionable. But if so, why may not a man who is 
striving to the utmost indulge hope of safety) 

The only satisfactory method of meeting this ques- 
tion, is to exhibit with simplicity and clearness the 
truths relating to the moral government of God ; to 
explain that God is not dealing with us simply as a 
father, but as a governor and a judge ; and to show 
how a person who has to conduct affairs of govern- 
ment is required to impose a restraint on his private 
feelings, and to proceed undeviatingly in the adminis- 
tration of public justice. The fact of the Divine 
Being having instituted such a government being un- 
derstood, and its justice and excellency perceived, a 
sinner will come to know where he stands, and to 
realize his condition as one of righteous helpless con- 
demnation before the bar of God. He will be prepared 
to see th#t the soul that sinneth must die ; to admit 
that for a convicted criminal there is necessary a right- 
eousness better than his own ; and to appreciate the 
occasion, the necessity, the adaptation, and the excel- 



SPECIAL ACTION. 113 

lency of the righteousness of Christ, together with the 
boundless love which has been exercised towards him 
in its provision. 

It should be your endeavour to explain also by what 
method a sinner may secure to himself the benefit of 
the death of Christ. It is too commonly imagined that 
the death of Christ only makes way for the acceptance 
of what men do for their own salvation ; and in many 
instances great perplexity exists as to the import of 
the terms coming to Christ, and believing on him. 
Make it your object to show that the benefit of Christ's 
death is to be secured by submitting ourselves to his 
method of salvation ; by cherishing a state of mind 
breathing acquiescence in the provision of his grace ; 
by giving ourselves up, as guilty, helpless, and undone, 
to Christ Jesus, that he may be our wisdom, and righte- 
ousness, and sanctification, and redemption. 

Still it is a question whether, after all this, the sin- 
ner whom you are instructing may submit himself to 
the righteousness of God. The probability is that he 
will long struggle against it; and that you will find it 
necessary to plead with him by various arguments of 
duty and of safety, of gratitude and of love, before he 
will rejoice your heart by adopting the language of an 
ancient pharisee, " What things were gain to me, those 
I have counted loss for Christ." 

4. To these remarks I may add, that you will find it 
of great importance, in your endeavours to convert a 
sinner, to induce a habit of meditation. 

The two objects that you wish to effect are the ac- 
quisition of knowledge, and the production of feeling. 
In any case an habitual thoughtlessness would be an 
almost insuperable barrier to your progress ; but more 



114 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

especially so in this, in which the truths you have to 
communicate are unwelcome, and the whole heart is 
in arms against the impression you aim to produce. 
Now thoughtlessness upon religious subjects is the 
uniform characteristic of ungodly men ; and has been 
found, to a most melancholy extent, to baffle the efforts 
which have been made for their conversion. This will 
be your grand enemy, and you will do well to wage 
war against it from the first, by solemn injunction and 
earnest entreaty. 

As thoughtlessness is a powerful adversary to your 
success, so a habit of meditation will be a most impor- 
tant ally. The quantity of attention paid to an object is 
one of the conditions which determine the effect it shall 
produce on the mind. Whatever is much dwelt upon 
is deeply influential, even though it be a trifle ; and if 
you can induce a frequent thoughtfulness of divine 
things, you secure for them a most valuable and pro- 
portionate power. Meditation after you have left, may 
do much more than the whole course of your conver- 
sation. It brings truth home again and again to the 
heart, and as by a process of digestion, incorporates it 
with the character. Truths thus taken up by a person's 
own thoughts begin to do their work, and enter into 
conflict with those antagonist fealings which they are 
designed to overcome. 

You will always find a person whom you can get to 
think, making some progress. In your successive visits 
you will not observe him precisely at the same point. 
He will have something to say to you, or will be ready 
for you to say something to him. Having been exer- 
cised by reflection, his mind will be continually pre- 
senting some new aspect, which will be highly favour- 



SPECIAL ACTION. 115 

able to your work of instruction, and will give to your 
labour, not only a present charm, but a cheering pros- 
pect of success. 

It is, perhaps, a yet more important reason why you 
should enforce a habit of meditation, that you have to 
enjoin upon the sinner with whom you converse the 
production of a change in his own mind,* (for such is 
the tenor of your exhortation when you urge him to 
turn to the Lord, or to flee to the Saviour,) and reflec- 
tion is the instrument by which this is to be accom- 
plished. He has proud and other sinful feelings with 
which he is to contend ; but with what weapon ! Tell 
him that divine truth is his sword, and meditation the 
hand that must wield it. Tell him that his force for 
the transformation of his own heart lies in taking up 
the truths of God, and in making an intentional and 
vigorous application of them to his own case ; that with 
an evil heart to subdue, he is loudly called upon to use 
this method ; and that if he does not, his ruin is his 
own. 

With these views, make it an importunate request 
to any person whom you wish to turn from the error 
of his ways, that he will go into solitude for a portion 
of time, say half an hour, every day ; and that he will 
spend it scrupulously in the consideration of what re- 
lates to his spiritual welfare, whether in the examina- 
tion of his own heart, in the perusal of the word of 
God, or in the recollection of instructions he may have 
received — always, be it understood, with direct appli- 
cation to his own ease. If you succeed in this request, 
I do not hesitate to express my conviction that you 

* Sec Individual Effort, p. 226. 



116 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

have gained your great object, and that you will soon 
see conversion follow. Never was it known yet, that 
a man pursued a course of sin who for half an hour 
every day looked eternal things in the face ; and the 
first instance of it that occurs will deserve to be re- 
corded as nothing less than a miracle. 

II. A brief space onlynow remains to notice the dis- 
positions which your work will require to be in exer- 
cise. 

1. The first of them is resolution. The necessity of 
this will arise partly from yourself. When the oppor- 
tunity of action arrives, every inward impediment may 
come afresh into existence, or aggravate itself into 
greater force ; so that, after all, if you are not resolute, 
the work may not be done. The necessity of it may 
arise partly from others. You may find religion an 
unwelcome subject ; or if general conversation on it 
may be tolerated, a determination may be manifested 
to evade, or even to resent, any approach to a personal 
reference. Carefully avoiding any thing which may 
be really univise, you should be resolved to do what is 
right. Firmly carry out your conviction of duty, and 
fully discharge your conscience of its burden. A sick 
child may refuse medicine, and a person in imminent 
danger may scorn help ; but you do not yield to the 
petulence of either the one or the other : how much 
less ought you to suffer an effort to be repelled, which 
aims at the prevention of spiritual and eternal 
woes ! 

2. To resolution add promptness. Time is always 
flying, and opportunities of usefulness, when they arrive, 
instantly begin to take their departure too. They 
should therefore be embraced immediately. How often 



SPECIAL ACTION. ll? 

may we linger, unwilling to begin the effort, until a 
I large portion, or perhaps the whole, of the time which 
might have been usefully employed is gone ! We 
should be quickened by the consideration that oppor- 
. tunities, when they are gone, never return: whatso- 
ever therefore our hands find to do, let us do it with 
our might. 

3. Your endeavours will require the exercise of 
watchfulness. Ever-varying circumstances will de- 

' mand an ever-observant eye. At the outset, you may 
find reason to postpone your intended effort to another 
opportunity ; or as you proceed, you may discover the 
operation of some cause rendering it durable that you 
should desist. The effect of your conversation may need 
to be watched. Perhaps it may irritate ; or the drift 
of it may be misapprehended ; or some new aspect of 
character may appear, calling for a change of address ; 
or you may discern a beneficial influence, affording 
you great encouragement to proceed. All such things 
as these are important, and the prompt notice and the 
skilful use of them may be very closely connected with 
your success. The object you have in view is awfully 
delicate, and your endeavour should be conducted 
throughout with a trembling care lest your own hand 
should mar your design and destroy your hope. 

4. Another disposition indispensable in your labour 
of love is patience. You must not expect to accomplish 
every thing in a moment, or to carry the heart of an 
enemy to God by storm. A state of ignorance, preju- 
dice, and sinful passion, presents many difficulties in the 
way of its own cure ; and we may be very thankful if 
we accomplish it even by slow degrees. Truths 
which appear to us with the utmost plainness, or the 



118 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

most decisive evidence, may be very doubtful or ob- 
scure to those with whom we converse ; and feelings 
which have so long been excited and moulded by 
worldly or sinful objects, may but very gradually yield 
to the influence of the most powerful transforming con- 
siderations. Continued ignorance and obduracy under 
our most sedulous instructions should be treated, not 
with anger or severity, but with the utmost gentle- 
ness -and pity ; lest any manifestation of impatience 
upon our part should obstruct our access to the under- 
standing and the heart, and forfeit the love and confi- 
dence in which the chief power of a teacher con- 
sists. % 

5. In fine, your efforts should be made with perse- 
verance. Whatever may be their want of success, 
never abandon them, so long as the opportunity of 
making them remains. You may have many tempta- 
tions to do so. One may shew so much resentment, 
another so much stupidity, and a third so much incon- 
stancy, that you may be ready to say, * Every thing 
practicable has been done for these people ; it is of no 
use to pursue them further.' But let a recollection of 
the immense value of their salvation check the influ- 
ence of such a sentiment. If you do abandon them, 
it is to everlasting ruin. And can you do this 1 What ! 
while life and hope remain] While God abandons 
them not, but prolongs the opportunity of repentance ] 
All that is compassionate forbid ! In various known 
instances persevering instruction has been effectual 
after many years of resistance, and for aught you know, 
at the very moment of your despair success may be 
about to be vouchsafed to you. Under all circum- 



SPECIAL ACTION. 119 

stances be stedfast and immoveable ; and, till a sinner 
is in hell, omit no effort to prevent his fall. 

Such, dear brethren, are the counsels I commend to 
you for your assistance in your labour ; let me only 
hope that you will combine diligence with wisdom, 
and act in the spirit of the Psalmist, when he said, ' I 
made haste, and delayed not' 



LECTURE VII. 

TREATMENT OF VARIOUS CASES. 



Psalm xix. 7, 8. 

The law of the Lord is perfect converting the soul ; 
the testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise 
the simple. The statutes of the Lord are right, 
rejoicing the heart ; the commandment of the 
Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes. 

It might have been expected that, as all men are in- 
volved in a common ruin, and are the subjects of a 
common depravity, so the method to be pursued in 
endeavouring to turn them unto God would be one and 
uniform. If, however, even to a small extent, you 
have made such endeavours, you have doubtless found 
that the one wickedness of mankind exhibits itself in 
many aspects, and gives rise to cases of so great 
variety as to defy the application of a common method. 
These cases are often as new and diverse, in compa- 
rison with each other, as though they arose from dif- 
ferent and even opposite causes ; and the occurrence 
of them in your own practice has, perhaps, convinced 
you that, for their effectual treatment, they require no 
inconsiderable variety of knowledge and skill. 

This variety of skill and knowledge, allow me to 
say, dear brethren, it is highly important you should 
attain. It is so, at least, if it is important that you 
should have any success in your work ; because an 
unfitness to treat particular cases is plainly adapted, 



TREATMENT OF VARIOUS CASES. 121 

not merely to impede, but to obstruct it altogether. 
If a sinner arrives at a point of ignorance, or mistake, 
or obduracy, at which you do not know what to do 
with him, it is clear that all hope of your being useful 
to him is at an end. I am prepared to hear you say, 
that, though important, this eminent skillfulness is 
not easy ; and I grant it. But what matter connected 
with our own welfare do we abandon because it is not 
easy? We pursue every such object so far as it is 
practicable. Now it is unquestionably practicable to 
qualify ourselves for the proper treatment of all forms 
of human depravity. The word of God, the instru- 
ment we have to employ, is perfectly fitted for its 
work ; and is also able to render the man of God " per- 
fect, thoroughly prepared" for his labour. Our defi- 
ciencies in action result from previous deficiencies in 
the accurate knowledge and just application of divine 
truth. Our small utility as soldiers under the Captain 
of salvation arises, in great part, from our having be- 
stowed little pains on acquiring the use of our weapon; 
the remedy of which evil is evidently necessary, and 
will as evidently be availing, to the efficiency of our 
services. 

The subject is as extensive as it is important. All 
that I can do on the present occasion is to drop a few 
hints on some of the cases which most frequently arise, 
as aids to your further reflection. We may contem- 
plate them as they indicate either the state of the un- 
derstanding or of the heart. 

I. — 1. As referring to the state of the understanding, 
the first case we notice is that of deep ignorance. In 
many cases it may appear, that your conversation, 
although you have conceived it to be simple, is not 

M 



122 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

sufficiently so for the person whose good you seek. It 
takes for granted too much previous knowledge. And 
as, if you had been trying to make a child read who 
had not learned the letters, you would abandon the 
lesson and have recourse to the alphabet, so, in these 
cases, you should fall back on the most simple portions, 
the alphabet of religious truth. 

As to the instances of extreme ignorance which 
sometimes occur, and which would be scarcely credi- 
ble if they were not substantiated by unquestionable 
testimony, it is by no means to be concluded, that any 
of them, even the most desperate, are beyond effectual 
instruction. However slender the capacity may be by 
nature, or however deteriorated by the want of early 
instruction, if the mind be sane there is hope. God 
has fitted truth to the mind, and the mind to truth* 
and we may rely with perfect confidence on the wis- 
dom and sufficiency of the adaptation. Our object 
should be, to arrive at the simplest and most elemen- 
tary forms of truth, by reducing our own knowledge 
to its rudiments, and by searching the scriptures for 
the most apt illustrations. The comparison which, 
with the greatest facility, exhibits the nature and con- 
sequences of our relation to God, (the fundamental 
principles of moral truth,) and which the scriptures 
often employ, is drawn from the parental character. 
"If I be a father, where is mine honour?" Every 
sane man can understand that children ought to love 
their parents ; and every one who can understand this, 
is capable of receiving all the truths which relate to 
his duty to God, and to his sin and misery, and, there- 
fore, those which relate to his salvation. 

2. Another case of frequent occurrence is that of 



TREATMENT OF VARIOUS CASES. 123 

unmeaning acquiescence. Those with whom you 
converse, perhaps, instantly express their agreement 
in every thing you say, but in such a manner as to 
leave a painful conviction that they neither under- 
stand nor attempt to understand it. These are ex- 
ceedingly tiresome cases, and apparently almost des- 
perate. The real source of this empty assent is pro- 
bably tu be found in a desire to escape the trouble of 
any exercise of mind on religious subjects. They agree 
to every thing, that they may not have the fatigue of 
thinking of any thing ; it is the most effectual way of 
keeping their minds quiet, and of sending you away, 
at the same time, satisfied with your visit. The me- 
thod of treating this case is not so much by instruction 
as by motive. You have not so much to teach them 
that which they do not know, as to press upon them 
that which they do know. The deep sleep of the heart 
paralyses the understanding ; it is your business to dis- 
turb it. For this purpose, make the strongest possible 
appeals to the passions, so as your appeals are grounded 
upon admitted truths. Strive to your utmost to touch 
the feelings. Do all that can be done to awaken hope, 
fear, grief, shame, or any other powerful passion, it 
scarcely matters which ; for when any one comes into 
strong action, the understanding will begin to act, and 
the whole soul will be open to you at once. In such 
cases as these you should be particularly studious to 
bring out the whole pungency of divine truth, which 
cannot be supposed to be greater than it may be neces- 
sary and fit to employ. Do not shrink from adducing 
whatever in holy writ is most melting or most terrific ; 
and, without asperity, adopt a manner of address as 
solemn and subdueing as you may be able to assume. 



124 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

3. The third case we notice is that of tenacious 
mistake. It occurs when persons hold errors as un- 
questionable truths. Some, for example, are perfectly 
convinced that they were made christians hi their bap- 
tism ; others, that if they lead a good life they can be 
in no danger ; and others, that, however they may be 
called upon, they really cannot do any thing that they 
ought. The influence of such mistakes is plainly very 
mischievous. They not only negative some important 
portions of truth, but they facilitate the evasion and 
neglect of all the rest. They exert an influence the 
more pernicious, because they are held, not as truths 
merely, but as parts of religious truth ; so that in en- 
deavouring to show their fallacy, you seem to be un- 
dermining their very faith itself. 

Now, I do not mean to say that such persons can- 
not be converted without a special conviction of these 
errors, nor that your whole efforts should be directed 
to such an object ; yet I conceive it important that 
they should not be overlooked. If they can be des- 
troyed, a great obstacle is removed out of the way, 
and success very much facilitated ; and there is no 
reason to despair of the attempt. It is important, how- 
ever, to remember how this attempt should be made. 
We should keep at the utmost distance from bitterness 
or censure, we should never laugh at people for 
their ignorance, or even accuse them of it; we should 
never oppose error by mere assertion or positivity. 
Our endeavour should be to induce thought and exa- 
mination ; to open avenues of reflection, and furnish 
materials for it ; to exhibit clear, solid, and convin- 
cing arguments, with great coolness, with no aim at 
triumph, and leaving them for consideration in order 



TREATMENT OF VARIOUS CASES. 125 

to produce their full effect. It is of great importance, 
in such cases as these, to induce a habit of indepen- 
dent thinking; independent alike of others and of 
themselves. When you can induce a person to feel 
that he is not to hold an opinion because he has al- 
ways held it, or because other people maintain it, or 
because it has been inculcated upon him by his religi- 
ous teachers, or for any other reason but because it is 
true, you loosen some of the grand roots of the tree of 
error, and may the sooner expect to see it fall. 

4. The last case we mention under this head, is 
that of sophistical entanglement. Many persons are, 
or profess to be, embarrassed with difficulties on 
various points ; these become the topics of almost 
every conversation, and little progress seems to be 
practicable, as to the production of spiritual good, un- 
less they can be silenced or removed. 

Some cases of this class exhibit great tenderness of 
conscience, and anxiety of mind, the embarrassment is 
plainly real and not feigned, and the exercises result- 
ing from it, perhaps, extremely painful. These per- 
sons should be treated with great gentleness. You 
should hear all that they wish to say, since the very ut- 
terance of it may relieve a burdened heart. Enter into 
every perplexity, and however clear the point may be 
to you, spare neither time nor pains in the kindest 
manner to render it so to them. Bear compassionately 
with their weakness; and go over the same ground 
with them again and again, if necessary, endeavouring 
not to evade, but really to meet every difficulty, and to 
treat each subject in a manner that ought to be satis- 
factory. Combine prayer with your converse ; since 



126 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

nothing tends more to lead the understanding to rest, 
than a devout and a tranquil heart. 

Cases of perplexity are for the most part, however, 
of a different kind. You meet with doubts and objec- 
tions in far greater numbers among persons who evi- 
dently amuse themselves with them, and make them 
an occasion of trifling with you. It requires some wis- 
dom and resolution to deal with such people as these. 
If you will suffer them to direct the conversation, they 
will lead you, perhaps, through the whole region of 
controversy, touching upon one subject after another 
so rapidly as to allow of the effective consideration of 
none. Such trifling as this should be cut short. You 
will do well, in the first place, to limit the discourse 
to difficulties actually felt by the person with whom 
you converse. It plainly can be of no importance at 
all to converse with him upon any other ; yet you may 
often find, when a doubtful point is started, that it is 
merely for the sake of conversation, and that no embar- 
rassment respecting it actually exists. All such topics 
discard. You will find it an advantage, secondly, to 
refuse to answer objections to the sentiments of other 
persons. You will commonly have much of this sort 
of work provided for you ; something has been found 
in such a book, or said by such a minister, or held by 
such a professor, against which heavy objections may 
be brought. But you are not bound to answer those 
objections. It will be much better for you to be pre- 
pared with your own representation of truth, for which 
alone, of course, you can be held accountable. What- 
ever objections may be brought against this, you will 
be expected, and you should be able, to repel ; but you 
may thus secure the opportunity of making a represen- 



TREAMENT OF VARIOUS CASES. 127 

tation not liable to some, perhaps not liable to any, of 
the objections with which your antagonist meant you 
should have to contend. Your advantage, in this re- 
spect, is still greater, if your study of the word of God 
should have led you into views of truth so modified as 
to avoid all the objections of the infidel, and as to ex- 
tort the confession, ' If things are so, they are per- 
fectly reasonable, and liable to no complaint.' He will 
tell you, perhaps, that he commonly hears a very dif- 
ferent account ; but hold yourself quite independent of 
other men's opinions, that you may link yonrself with 
no man's errors. Let your only question be, Are not 
these views true 1 Thirdly, it is important to press 
upon every such person a faithful regard to admitted 
truths. No man will say that every thing is false ; 
something, at all events, is true, and is acknowledged 
to be true by himself. But every moral truth is 
adapted to exercise a practical influence to which it is 
obligatory to yield. If a person acknowledges only 
that God is his maker, out of this truth arises an obli- 
gation to love his Maker, which it is imperative on 
him to fulfil. Press this obligation home. That some 
truths are enveloped in darkness, is no reason why 
those should be neglected which shine as in a blaze of 
light. Whatever may be said as to doubtful points, 
resistance to admitted truths is clearly wrong. If you 
press this successfully, you gain every thing. The 
heart which yields to one truth will speedily discover 
more. Finally, make it your endeavour to produce 
seriousness. You will scarcely fail to discover evi- 
dences of prevailing levity ; and without settling any 
controverted point, you will be able to show, that 
topics which involve such awful issues as belong to 



128 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

life, death, and eternity, ought not to be treated with 
levity. In such an exhortation, if you yourself are 
serious, every man's conscience will be your ally ; and 
if you succeed in inducing seriousness, you do much to 
facilitate th- exercise of beneficial consideration. 

II. — 1. Among the cases which may be referred to 
the state of the heart, may be ranked, in the first 
place, fallacious confidence. You meet, doubtless, 
with many persons who are well satisfied with their 
state, upon grounds which afford no satisfaction to you ; 
so very well satisfied, indeed, that it is a matter of no 
small difficulty to induce even an inquiry on the sub- 
ject. Now it cannot admit of a doubt that every 
means should be employed to break up such a ruinous 
confidence. While it continues, it is obvious that no 
progress whatever can be made in saving knowledge. 
It shields the heart from every thing which may be 
adapted to pierce it, and inevitably frustrates every 
attempt at conversion. It is of the first importance, 
therefore, that this obstacle should be removed. To 
leave it in existence is to abandon the sinner to his 
ruin. 

As to the question hoiv it should be attempted, I 
readily answer, that it should be done in the gentlest 
way possible. It is at the very best a painful work, 
both to him who performs it, and to him for whose 
sake it is performed ; and, as in a surgical operation, 
any unnecessary severity may well be spared. But if 
gentle measures do not prevail, undoubtedly more 
powerful ones should be resorted to. If hints and in- 
sinuations are sufficient, by all means let a deceived 
sinner learn his misery by means of them ; but if they 
are not so, let it be declared to him in the broadest and 



TREATMENT OF VARIOUS CASES. 129 

plainest terms. Even hesitation in this respect is 
treachery to the soul's welfare, and, instead of being 
commended as tenderness, ought to be condemned as 
cruelty. There is no interest but that of the soul that 
we should treat in such a ruinous manner. If a per- 
son's house were in flames, would any one hesitate to 
say to him, If you do not escape, you will be burnt ] 
And why should we feel so much less deeply for men's 
souls, as to skrink from telling them, in direct terms, 
if we can show them scriptural groimds for it, that 
they are in the way to hell ? All that is really compas- 
sionate forbids such treacherous tenderness, whatever 
may be the immediate or apprehended results of a 
bolder and more faithful course. 

2. There are cases, secondly, of intentional deceit. 
People with whom you converse not unnaturally wish 
to stand well in your eyes ; and they frequently give 
a better account of themselves than truth would war- 
rant. Sometimes this extends only to a disclaimer of 
grosser faults ; at others a cloak of religion is assumed, 
in part perhaps for the sake of expected charity. I 
have known instances of this kind of deliberate impo- 
sition, even upon the very verge of eternity. That it 
is of the utmost importance to make your way to the 
heart and conscience of such persons, admits of no 
doubt ; and though it may be difficult, much may be 
done towards it by searching conversation, and by col- 
lateral inquiry. Whether any benefit may arise from 
intimating your suspicions, or from bringing forward 
your evidence of their hypocrisy, is doubtful, and must 
be decided by your own discretion in each particular 
case. But one method is of undoubted propriety and 
suitableness. It is to trace iniquity to the heart, and 



130 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

endeavour to lead to its detection there. We are, per- 
haps, apt to lay too much stress upon outward sins, in 
our efforts to produce conviction ; and though I do not 
say that they should be wholly unnoticed, yet it is far 
more important to lead a sinner to a just knowledge 
of his own heart, than to convict him merely of exter- 
nal guilt. Let any one who wishes, however falsely, 
to disavow charges of open sin, have the full benefit of 
such a disavowal. Say that it is of no consequence 
whether he is or is not guilty of the wickedness he 
disclaims ; that if he be innocent of it, he is still cor- 
rupt at heart, and an enemy to God ; that this is his 
great iniquity, and that which equally ensures his de- 
struction. No fraud can be practised upon you in re- 
ference to this charge. If he pretends to deny it, the 
book of God is at once your authority and your proof; 
if he falls under it, your object is attained. 

3. You may meet with many cases of ill-directed 
effort. Where you have so far succeeded as to awaken 
anxiety, or where, in the first instance, you may 
have found a measure of it to exist, you may never- 
theless discover that the endeavours to which it leads 
are altogether of an unsatisfactory kind. Some you 
may find betaking themselves to a diligent keeping to 
their church ; some to leading a better life ; some to 
regular attendance at a place of worship ; some to 
reading and prayer, and religious associations. 

Now some of these things are most excellent in 
themselves, and may be regarded as pleasing and 
hopeful indications of commencing piety ; but we 
should take great care to encourage no satisfaction, 
either in ourselves or in others, in that which after 
all is not of a saving character. A broad and decisive 



I 



TREATMENT OF VARIOUS CASES. 131 

distinction requires to be drawn between things which 
are good in themselves, and things which have an 
adaptation to rescue a sinner from sin and misery. 
Nothing, for example, can be more excellent than 
holiness ; yet the condition of a sinner is such, that, 
if he were to be henceforth as holy as an angel, he 
would gain nothing as to deliverance from condemna- 
tion. For this purpose there is required an atonement 
for sin, which God has provided in the death of his 

E Son ; and submission to that atonement on the part of 
a sinner is the only method whereby the benefit of it 
can be derived to him. It should be carefully observ- 

" ed by us, whether this state of mind is or is not induced. 
If it be, every thing is well ; if it be not, every thing 
is wrong. It may be conjoined with any or all of the 
pleasing appearances above noticed ; but, on the other 
hand, any or all of these may be separated from it. 
It is not certain that a sinner has submitted to God 
because he is thus hopefully exercised ; he may have 
done so — or he may not. 

None of these pleasing appearances exercise a more 
plausible and delusive influence than prayer. To a 
very great extent a notion prevails, that sinners may 
be saved by prayer ; and there is something so excel- 
lent in prayer itself, and, considered as a spiritual 
exercise, so much identified with the existence of 
sincere piety, that many pious persons have either im- 
bibed the same sentiment, or are startled at the opposite. 
To me it appears to be one of the simplest and most 
obvious truths, that no man can be saved by prayer. 
If it be a spiritual exercise (which is far from being 
always the case,) it may be, like holiness, an evidence 
of salvation,but not the instrument of it. It is not that 



132 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

which a sinner is to do in order to be saved, or that by 
which he can be saved. It does nothing towards his 
salvation, but leaves the question of acceptance or 
wrath just where it was. Now, even if prayer might 
always be taken as an evidence of piety, it would be 
an unscriptural and mischievous thing to confound the 
evidences with the method of salvation. But, as I 
have just hinted, prayer is by no means uniformly a 
spiritual exercise. Much of it is formal, and much 
that is not formal is natural — the utterance of an awa- 
kened, but not of a subdued, heart. This is even no 
evidence of piety ; and yet it is the prayer by which 
multitudes hope to be saved. It is not only a truth, 
therefore, but a very important truth, that a sinner 
cannot be saved by prayer ; that if his prayer be un- 
accompanied with submission to God, it leaves him 
under condemnation ; that if it be accompanied with 
submission to God, it is not prayer that saves him, 
but submission ; and that reliance placed upon prayer 
serves only to blind him to his condition, and to render 
prayer itself an instrument of his ruin. 

Jt is the more material that prayer should be set in 
its true light, because by many persons it is regarded, 
not merely as that which will save them, but as the 
only thing which it is either requisite or possible for 
them to do in reference to their salvation. \ If prayer 
does not answer the end,' they are ready to say, 
4 what can we do morel' And as it uniformly happens 
that prayer does not answer an end for which it is un- 
scripturally and inappropriately used, it hence follows, 
that they conclude they have nothing else to do, and 
make themselves satisfied in a state of sin and con- 
demnation ; as though they would say, ' I have prayed 



TREATEENT OF VARIOUS CASES. 133 

to God, and that is every thing ; and now, if I am not 
converted and saved, it is not my fault.' It is evident 
that, in such a state of mind, the attention of a sinner 
is withdrawn from all scriptural views of duty, and 
from every impulse to right action. The Scripture 
speaks of humbling ourselves before God, of repentance, 
of godly sorrow, of submission to Christ's righteous- 
ness; all which are thus, most unjustly and injurious- 
ly, superseded by prayer, an exercise by the perform- 
ance of which, in whatever manner, a sinner deems 
himself exonerated from all obligation to these scriptu- 
ral and essential duties. Instead of being useful, the 
very exercise of prayer becomes in this method a tre- 
mendous mischief. I do not here need to be told of 
the fallen and helpless state of human nature, or of the 
thousand encouragements to prayer which are con- 
tained in the divine word ; admitting these most readi- 
ly, I must maintain also that it is a sinner's direct and 
immediate duty to turn to God, and submit to his Son, 
a duty from the obligation and necessity of which not 
a whole century of prayers co-aid relieve him. Make 
it your business, dear brethren, to see that no person 
under your instruction shall ruin himself by this me- 
lancholy delusion. 

If you find reason to think that, amidst whatever 
hopeful exercises, the heart is not bowed to the right- 
eousness of Christ, you should not only indulge no 
satisfaction yourself, but you should allow none to ex- 
ist in the mind of those whose conversion you seek. 
It may be a very hard lesson for them to learn, and 
not a little painful for you to inculcate it ; but it is of 
indispensable necessity for you to say, that, notwith- 
standing all their goodness, they are as truly in the 



] 34 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

way to hell as ever. Such an annunciation may be 
received with grief, with surprise, with resentment ; 
but, however modified in language or in manner, sub- 
stantially it is indispensable. Of course you will en- 
deavour to make it clear by scriptural instruction and 
proof; which, if you can gain attention, you may rea- 
dily effect by a review of the condition into which sin 
has brought us. You should be prepared also for the 
question which you may instantly expect : ' What then 
am I to do]' Be ready with your answer — 'Submit 
yourself to God's righteousness.' Show the righteous- 
ness which God has provided in its just attitude, and in 
its blessed adaptation to our need, and press the obliga- 
tion and necessity, as well as the privilege, of count- 
ing all things but loss, in order to win Christ and be 
found in him. 

4. You may find instances of cherished neglect 
There may be some who will allow you to converse 
with them, who, nevertheless, have no intention of 
paying any regard to your instructions, but who both 
cherish and avow a contrary purpose. These are per- 
sons plainly to be pursued with the force of motive. 
Every thing that is solemn in manner, and weighty in 
sentiment, should be brought to bear on them. Some- 
times appeals of melting compassion derived from the 
love of God ; sometimes of awful terror drawn from his 
wrath. But perhaps the topics from which the most 
salutary influence may be expected are these. In the 
first place, a well-sustained charge of criminality. En- 
deavour to show such a person that, in purposely dis- 
regarding eternal things, he does what is wrong in it- 
self, and what his own conscience condemns. Inten- 
tional neglect is a state of mind which, however he 



TREATMENT OF VARIOUS CASES. 135 

may wish to cherish it, he will never pretend to justify ; 
and if you succeed in making his conscience speak, in 
awakening a fixed sense of criminality and self-reproof, 
you effect, perhaps, the most hopeful step towards a 
change. In the next place, endeavour to induce a con- 
viction that he is rushing on his own ruin. Disabuse 
hirn of the notion that he is born for destruction ; that 
he is the victim of irreversible fate ; that he is to 
be borne down by irresistible wrath. Make him know 
that his destiny is in his own hands; that life and 
death are exhibited, for himself to determine which 
shall be his portion ; that all things are ready for his 
blessedness ; that he is endowed with capacities for 
securing it, and that, if he falls into hell, the act of 
destruction is his own : — and you thus impart views 
from which much benefit may be derived. 

5. You may sometimes incur direct resentment. 
Smothered resentment may often exist; but it may 
occasionally break out into open, and perhaps into vio- 
lent expression. Perhaps you may be required to 
leave the habitation; perhaps forbidden to enter it 
again. 

In such cases it may occur to you that you must 
have done something wrong, and have failed of the 
proper manner of conveying instruction. Doubtless 
you may have done so, and it' is important for you to 
make the inquiry ; but this conclusion by no means 
necessarily arises from the facts. Resentment in the 
hearer may arise without any fault in the speaker, as 
is manifest, not only in the case of Stephen, whose 
auditors gnashed upon him with their teeth, but in the 
history of our Lord, from whose preaching a similar 
result not unfrequently followed. Without shrinking 



1 36 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

from a thorough self-examination on the subject, there- 
fore, you may yet cherish a hope of having done no- 
thing to deserve either your own reproofs, or those 
which may be lavishly cast upon you. 

In the same way you may dispose of another sug- 
gestion which may arise in such circumstances, 
namely, that, having produced resentment, you can 
have done no good. I am not about to plead for the 
desirableness of inducing resentment; I readily allow 
that endeavours should be made to avoid it, if possible ; 
but, if it should arise, I should be very far from being 
discouraged by it. I can by no means take it as a sign 
that no good is done, or is like ; y to be done. I look 
at it, indeed, altogether in a contrary light. It is pre- 
cisely the effect which divine truth is adapted to pro- 
duce on the conscience, while the heart resists it ; and 
it is an evidence that, though truth has not reached 
the one, it has reached the other, and given testimony 
to its power. Nor does resentment, when it is with- 
out just cause, obstruct the avenue to the heart. It is 
very much adapted to give rise to subsequent consi- 
deration and regret, and being found causeless, to 
induce a more studious expression of kindness in 
future interviews. Such, in fact, has often been the 
case ; and w T e are quite justified in saying, that it is 
much better and more hopeful for instruction to pro- 
duce resentment, than to produce no effect at all. 
The most afflictive of all conditions is an unbroken 
apathy. 

You should be on your guard, likewise, against 
imagining that, where you have been so unhappy as 
to inspire resentment, it is useless for you to attempt 
any thing further, or that it is better to do nothing 



TREATMENT OF VARIOUS CASES. 137 

if you cannot act without provoking a similar feeling. 
Both these ideas are erroneous. All you have to do, 
is to see to it that resentment is inspired not by your- 
self, but by the truth , and that, while pressing home 
the most unwelcome topics, you preserve an evilent 
and unquestionable aspect of benevolence. With these 
cautions, you may and must persevere. Too much is 
staked upon the issue to allow you to abandon the 
effort; and too many rewards have been given to 
unwearied kindness to allow you to despair of suc- 
cess. 

I am very well aware that the observations which 
I have made are much fewer and more brief than is 
demanded by the subject to which they refer. I com- 
mend them, however, to your serious and candid con- 
sideration ; and in closing,' only press upon you again 
the sentiment, that you ought to be prepared for every 
case which may arise. If you find that you are not 
so, do not, under any pretext, rest satisfied with your 
deficiency. Observe carefully how much want of suc- 
cess in your labour arises from your unskilfulness in 
contending with its difficulties; and bring home to 
your heart the fact, that various persons are perishing 
in their sins, because you do not know how to relieve 
the difficulties of one, to answer the objections of ano- 
ther, or to reach the conscience of a third. Ought 
not such a state of things to be deeply painful to ycu ? 
And more especially while there are means of reme- 
dying the mischief! There is no fault in your wea- 
pon. There is no aspect of human depravity or wick- 
edness to which the word of God is not adapted. It 
is like an armoury, comprehending weapons of every 
class, and suited to warfare of every kind. Have you 

N* 



138 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

studied it closely 1 Have you felt its application to 
the varied workings of your own heart? Are you 
habitually engaged in bringing it home to your own 
bosom, so as to learn the method of applying it to 
others ] Are you abandoning yourselves to a variety 
of theological difficulties, without knowing your own 
way out of the labyrinth from which you have under- 
taken to extricate the perplexed ? Do you find that 
the doctrinal views you entertain are not adapted for 
the work of converting sinners ; that they have either 
no edge, or one that is easily and effectually turned 
aside ? How long do you mean to remain in such a 
condition, so grievously disqualified for the prosecu- 
tion of the most important of all labours 1 When will 
sinners be converted, if the war against their iniqui- 
ties does not assume a different character from this 1 
Is this feebleness of our array entailed upon us by the 
captain of the host ? Or is it not the result of our own 
ignorance and inattention'? Dear brethren, as work- 
men in this blessed employ, let me in treat you to be 
workmen who need not to be ashamed. Gird your- 
selves with the complete armour which God has pro- 
vided; an armour not less complete for conquering 
others, than for defending ourselves. Scriptural study, 
reflection, and prayer, will accomplish the object. 
Let me hope that you will earnestly pursue it, and 
give yourselves no rest, until you have proved how 
fully the truth of God is adapted to all the aspects of 
the wickedness of man, as the provision of his mercy 
is to the entire depth of his ruin. 



LECTURE VIII. 

DIRECT EXERCISES AFTER LABOUR. 



Psalm cxviii. 25. 

O Lord, I beseech thee send now prosperity. 

I am now to suppose, dear brethren, (and I hope that 
with some truth I may do so,) that you have been 
making actual endeavours for the conversion of sin- 
ners; that you have gone forth to instruct the igno- 
rant, to warn the thoughtless, to reprove the wicked, 
and to beseech God's enemies to be reconciled to him. 
Your labour is now done : but did you drop all remem- 
brance of it with the actual termination of your toil 7 
I trust not ; but that it has still a place in your recol- 
lection ; and that it has been associated with your 
subsequent approaches to God. 

As, in some foregoing discourses, I have pressed 
upon you the importance of preparatory devotional ex- 
ercises, I must here add that similar exercises are no 
less important now your labour is performed. If you 
have felt the propriety of them in the former circum- 
stances, and more especially if you have reduced 
them to practice, I have no doubt but you will acknow- 
ledge the value of them in the present. The sacred 
exercises which should follow our endeavours for the 
salvation of our fellow men are closely connected with 
those which precede them; I might say they grow out 
of them. There is no man who enters his closet be- 



140 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

fore he makes such endeavours, but will long to return 
thither afterwards. 

The exercises now contemplated will naturally have 
respect to two principal objects. They may relate to 
ourselves or to others ; to the success of our exertions 
with men, or their acceptance with God. It might 
most nearly accord with our feelings, perhaps, if I were 
first to notice the exercises connected with the success 
of our endeavours, since this is probably with us a very 
prominent, if not the most prominent object ; but I 
turn rather in the first place to the acceptance of our 
services before God, which ought, in truth, to be a 
prior concern. 

I. If our endeavours for the conversion of sinners 
are rightly made, they are made as acts of obedience 
and service to God, and as expressions of grateful love 
and dedication to his glory ; and if so, then our first 
business obviously is to carry the services when ren- 
dered into his presence, and lay them at his feet. Such 
an exercise naturally arises out of the primary inten- 
tion of the service itself; that intention being plainly 
left incomplete, unless the service, subsequently to its 
performance; ;e actually presented before the Lord. 
Moreover, it is only upon an accepted service that 
any blessing can be expected. If our labour be a re- 
jected offering, we can have no hope that a benedic- 
tion will rest upon it ; so that the supplication of its 
acceptance in heaven is of essential importance to its 
efficacy upon earth. In addition to these reasons it is 
to be observed, that the gracious acceptance of our 
labours on the part "of our heavenly Father, is a source 
of immediate and unutterable joy. It is an exquisite 



DIRECT EXERCISES AFTER LABOUR. 141 

delight, fitted to the taste of the spiritual mind, and 
one after which we ought to feel a longing appetite ; 
it is a divine gratification, which God in the riches of 
his mercy is willing to bestow, and which he intends 
as the present recompense of our toil. Not to seek 
this acceptance, would be to overlook the very chief 
of all the pleasures with which devotedness to God is 
connected, and to separate from our services the 
; highest recompense which eternal love has allotted to 
them. To be insensible to the value of such a recom- 
pense could indicate nothing less than an utter ignorance 
of experimental piety. It enters into the felicity of the 
Son of God himself, in respect of the execution of the 
great redeeming work committed by the Father to his 
hands ; it constitutes the highest joy of saints and an- 
gels in the celestial world ; in its amplest measure it 
is the bliss which is there prepared for ourselves ; and 
there must be some afflictive and perilous peculiarity 
in us, if it be a delight for which we have now neither 
appetite nor taste. The holiest and most devoted of 
men have always entered most deeply into the joy of 
being by their labours " a sweet savour unto God." 

Make it your first concern, therefore, after your en- 
deavours for the conversion of sinners, to draw near to 
God, and to lay them at his footstool as services ren- 
dered to himself, and services of which you implore 
his gracious acceptance. Pray earnestly that he will 
accept them ; and not only so, but that he will give you 
to know that he accepts them, and shed abroad in 
your heart a sense of his divine complacency. I hope 
I am not speaking to persons to whom this language 
will appear either unintelligible or enthusiastic, j 
trust, on the contrary, that you know enough of real 



142 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

and intimate communion with God, to know how ra- 
tionally such a privilege may be sought, and how truly 
it is within the scope of divine condescension and 
christian experience. 

If we come to inquire how such an object is to be 
attained, we shall find in the onset the necessity of a 
serious examination. We shall have need to ask how 
much of our service it is possible to present for the 
acceptance of our master. It is by no means safe to 
presume that the whole of it can be so presented, al- 
though it might seem natural that this should be the 
case. It is plain, however, that nothing more can 
justly be presented to God than has been really ren- 
dered to him. What we have done under the actual 
influence of dedication to his glory, and grateful love 
for his mercy, that may clearly be laid at his feet ; but 
if any thing should have been done, either through the 
operation of any other motives, or without the opera- 
tion of these, that has not been done to God or for him, 
and cannot with any propriety, or with any possibility 
of acceptance, be presented before him. Now we can- 
not proceed far in a scrutiny of our labours, with- 
out perceiving that the operation of spiritual and holy 
motives has been by no means consistent and uniform. 
Even if we have been prevailingly actuated by love to 
the Saviour, and an eye to his glory, we may find cause 
to acknowledge that inferior impulses have added 
their force, and given a mixed character to the whole. 
How often may we have acted under a sense of duty 
merely, without the quickenings of gratitude and 
love ! How often from the force of habit, almost with- 
out the conscious operation of any rational motive at 
all ! How often influenced by an engagement with 



DIRECT EXERCISES AFTER LABOUR. 143 

others, or by the known observation of our fellow crea- 
tures ! How often impelled by feelings centering in 
self, whether relating to the satisfaction we might feel 
with ourselves, to the esteem we might gain from 

- others, or even to the pleasure of being useful ! But 
if this be the case, and there is so much in our ser- 

'< vices which has not been done unto God, it is obvious 

- that, before they are laid at his footstool, they should 
be thoroughly examined, winnoiced, as it were, to di- 
vide the chaff from the wheat. For all that we have 
done under inferior motives like the Scribes arid Phari- 
sees of old, we may have our reward; but that reward 
can never be the smile and approbation of our Lord. 

And what do you anticipate, dear brethren, as the 
result of such a scrutiny'? You perceive perhaps in a 
moment that there is much of your labours which you 
can present before God with no feelings but those of 
shame and contrition, and with no prayer but for par- 
don. Ah I when we proceed to separate the precious 
from the vile, to take away from the general mass of 
our exertions, already too small, every thing which has 
not been influenced by love to the Saviour, and to put 
by itself that portion of our endeavours which has been 
thus actuated, what large and melancholy deductions 
have we to make from the apparent amount of our 
service ! How much that might have been valuable, 
*has now no worth, but is to be thrown aside as refuse; 
and in some cases, perhaps, almost or quite the whole 
of our exertions may be found wanting in the only qua- 
lities which can give them value before God ! What 
an afflictive discovery is this ! How much we have lost, 
and by what criminal heedlessness ! But what is now 
to be done 1 Nothing, but to humble ourselves in the 



144 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

dust, and pray to be forgiven. This whole portion of 
our labours contains matter of the deepest humiliation; 
and it is highly important for us to avail ourselves of 
the light which the presence of God thus throws upon 
them to disabuse ourselves of a groundless compla- 
cency in them. No exercise of mind can be more 
just or more salutary than, beneath the guilt of these 
unholy duties, to approach to the fountain wiiich 
cleanseth from all sin. 

But if our searchings of heart should leave any re- 
mainder of a more valuable kind ; if in any degree we 
have been influenced by love to Christ and a heartfelt 
consecration to him, this portion of our services may 
be presented before him. No doubt this also is exceed- 
ingly defective and unworthy, and deep humility be- 
comes us ; but humility, however sincere or however 
deep, can never require us to overlook, to misinterpret, 
or to undervalue, the work of the Lord in our hearts. 
As dedication to his glory is a state of mind on which, 
viewed generally, he looks with approbation, so a mea- 
sure of his complacency must be associated with every 
individual expression of it. Having access to God, 
therefore, through our Lord Jesus Christ, you may 
justly gather up your fragments of spiritual service, 
and lay them at his footstool with such language as 
this : " Here, Lord, are some small endeavours which 
I have made for thee, some slight expressions of love 
from a heart which thou hast won to thy glory ; let it 
please thee graciously to receive them at my hands, 
and to shed abroad in my breast a sense of thy conde- 
scending acceptance of these my unworthy services. 
If I were in heaven, this would be my highest joy ; 



DIRECT EXERCISES AFTER LABOUR. 145 

and it will be little less than heaven while I am on 
earth." 

If you find any unsuitableness in this recommenda- 
tion to the state of your minds, it is, perhaps, because 
you fail in respect of the primary intention by which 
your labours for the good of others should be charac- 
terized. They are not consciously and expressly ren- 
dered as service to God, so that it seems strange to you 
to speak of presenting them for acceptance before him. 
This is an evil you should endeavour to remedy. Or 
it may be because you confound the acceptance of your 
services with the acceptance of your persons. In this re- 
spect a little correct scriptural knowledge will be highly 
advantageous to you. Remember that before God we 
stand as sinners righteously condemned ; and that we 
never can be accepted of him but through the blood and 
righteousness of our Lord Jesus Christ. This is the sole 
and the all-sufficient ground of our justification, or our 
acceptance as righteous. No reference whatever to our 
works mingles with this ; nor can the acceptance of any 
of our works be entertained for a moment until our per- 
sons be first accepted through the beloved. No services 
can be favourably received from a rebel still in enmity 
and under condemnation. But if our persons be first of all 
accepted, and through the perfect and glorious righte- 
ousness of the Son of God, by which we attain a high 
and complete standing in the divine favour, then the 
way is prepared for the acceptance of our services also. 
Being already in a state of friendship with God, un- 
doubtedly offerings of friendship may be presented at 
his footstool, and must be acceptable there. Or per- 
haps while the ground is thus clear and well laid in 
scripture doctrine, you may fall into perplexed and un- 



146 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

scriptural experience. You may suffer the acceptance 
of your persons and your services to be blended in fact, 
though in theory they are distinct Be much aware 
of this. Before you present your offerings of gratitude, 
be careful to realize your own condition of acceptance. 
It is only so that you will discern the possibility of the 
acceptance of your unworthy sacrifice, or have your 
heart open to the overflowing grace that will be mani- 
fested therein ; not otherwise will the spirit in which 
you offer it be that of generous friendship, or your 
breast accessible to the true expression of the divine 
complacency. 

While presenting your services before God you 
should carefully endeavour to realize your personal 
acceptance in the beloved apart from them. You will, 
of course, never suffer yourselves to feel as though 
your dedication were the ground of your favourable 
approach to God. It would indicate a grievous amount 
of spiritual pride if you were to indulge such a feeling ; 
while it would, with certainty, destroy the whole plea- 
sure I am leading you to seek. There is an immense 
difference between seeking the divine complacency in 
our exertions and being complacent in them ourselves, 
and between the respective pleasures resulting from 
these states of mind. The joy of God's approbation is 
of an humbling and sanctifying, as well as of a most 
elevating character ; the joy of self-complacency is 
nothing better than a miserable and fruitless inflation. 
Self-complacency can never arise while we keep our 
eyes open. In addition to the fact that so large a por- 
tion of our services is too unholy to be presented be- 
fore God at all, we have to remember that, wherein 
better motives have influenced us, we are indebted for 



DIRECT EXERCISES AFTER LABOUR. 147 

this mercy to his own Spirit, while they have still 
operated so feebly, in comparison with their unmea- 
surable greatness, as to put us to utter confusion. 
Thus, while we ask our adorable Lord to accept some 
tokens of love, we present to him but the fruits of his 
own grace, and have to take shame to ourselves that 
they are not far more considerable; to wonder, in a 
word, that he will accept any thing where he has to 
forgive so much. O ! the very thought itself is almost 
annihilating, that, not only with so much meanness, 
but with so much unworthiness, the ever-blessed God 
will condescend to accept any thing at our hands. 

II. Having laid our endeavours for the conversion 
of sinners at our heavenly Master's feet, and implored 
his gracious acceptance of them through his dear Son, 
we may direct our attention in the next place to their 
success. This, undoubtedly, though not the primary, 
is a highly important object ; and if we have entered 
into our work with any measure of a right spirit, it is 
one to which we shall be keenly alive. 

It is manifest that, when our utmost efforts have 
been employed, the end at which we have been aiming 
cannot be considered as accomplished. We may have 
given instruction, exhortation, or reproof; but by these 
things we have only endeavoured to bring the mind 
into action, in order that out of its proper action there 
may arise ultimate beneficial results. The actual 
good is to be produced by subsequent reflection. We 
have been sowing seed, which must have time to vege- 
tate and bring forth its fruit. There is a clear scope, 
therefore, for additional efforts; an opportunity of doing 
something else, in order to further the influence and 
secure the efficacy of that which we have already done. 



148 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

But, it may be asked, what further can be done! 
While we are engaged with a person, we may exert 
an influence upon him ; but in what manner can any 
be exercised after we have left him 1 Ah ! there is a 
being who is continually present with him, and can 
exercise a constant power over his spirit; a being to 
whom you likewise may have access, and whose agen- 
cy you may engage to give perpetuity and efficacy to 
your own. You know his name. It is God, the father 
of our spirits, and the God of all flesh, He Can carry 
on the work when you are obliged to lay it aside, and 
bring into continual bearing on the conscience and the 
heart the words which you uttered but in a moment* 
Implore his aid, therefore. Bow yourself before him 
in prayer, and beseech him to make the work his own: 
" O Lord, I beseech thee send now prosperity." 

You are well acquainted, moreover, with the gene- 
ral and important truth, that God himself is the giver 
of every good and perfect gift. No means are suc- 
cessful without his blessing; and although one may 
plant and another water, it is he who giveth the in- 
crease. To anticipate success without seeking his 
blessing on the means we have employed, would in- 
dicate an entire oversight of this truth, 01 a very high 
degree of self-confidence and presumption. Prayer in 
connection with our endeavours, is a most just ac- 
knowledgment of our weakness and dependence, to- 
gether with the supremacy, the sovereignty, and the 
bounty of the Lord of all. If we do desire success, 
in what method can that desire so naturally and so 
justly express itself, as in supplication to him from 
whom all success proceeds ! If we are not found im- 
ploring his blessing, what reason can we have to sup- 



DIRECT EXERCISES AFTER LABOUR. 149 

pose that we desire it 1 And if we do not desire it, 
upon what ground can we imagine that we shall re- 
ceive it] Not to follow up our endeavours with prayer, 
is to cut ourselves off from the only fountain of energy 
by which vital power can be poured into the means we 
have employed. 

It is further known to us, that our endeavours for 
the conversion of sinners are opposed by very peculiar 
and inveterate causes. We have the whole force of 
human depravity to contend with. We are striving 
to produce impressions which the feelings of every 
moment are adapted to e£ace, as the recurring waves 
obliterate instantly our footsteps on the sand. Perhaps 
ignorance is so dense as almost to defy our endeavours 
to communicate knowledge ; or if we do make our- 
selves understood, our message is so unwelcome, that 
there is little probability of its being regarded, or even 
remembered. The world is loved with a fondness, and 
sin is held with a tenacity, which seem not only to re- 
pel but to deride our toil. We know, too, from him 
who searcheth the heart, and who in kindness has fore- 
warned us of the depth of its wickedness, that, unless 
divine power interpose, all our endeavours will actu- 
ally be repelled, and that it is to God's own arm alone 
that sinners will yield. And knowing this, to restrain 
prayer were not only the most unaccountable forget- 
fulness, it were little short of insanity. It would be 
greater wisdom to make no efforts at all for the con- 
version of sinners, than to separate them from earnest 
supplication that God will render them availing, as in 
the day of his power. 

God has not required us to throw ourselves alone 
into the midst of these spiritual wickednesses, to our 
o* 



150 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

certain confusion and defeat. His blessing is not less 
free than it is necessary. If it is essential to our 
success, he is also infinitely willing to bestow it. He 
is far from standing aloof, and leaving us to our weak- 
ness ; he bids us lay hold on his strength, and readily 
girds himself also for the war. The outpouring of 
his blessed Spirit is promised in answer to prayer; 
and he hath never said, Seek ye me in vain. What 
therefore should we mean, if we were not to follow 
up our labours with prayer 1 To omit seeking that 
aid without which all our toil would be fruitless, while 
it would be most readily granted at our request 1 How 
glaring an inconsistency ! How strange a contradic- 
tion ! Dear brethren, surely you will not be guilty of 
it ; but as often as you have been wrestling with sin- 
ners, you will be found likewise in your solitudes 
wrestling with God, that, prevailing with him, you 
may, like Jacob, prevail with men. 

Care and enlargement in this exercise are the more 
necessary, because of the great principle of God's 
government, that he will honour those by whom he 
is honoured. By the manner in which he pours out 
his blessing, he exercises an important discipline over 
our hearts. Where he sees the deepest abasement, 
the most earnest desire, and in other respects an atti- 
tude of mind the most conformable with his will and 
glory, there he leads us to expect the most ample 
benediction ; where, on the contrary, he sees the heart 
least humbled, least enlarged, and rendering him the 
least honour, he finds reasons to diminish or to with- 
hold his blessing. This method is undoubtedly a wise 
and a holy one, and it ought to be powerfully influen- 
tial with us. You will readily perceive that it bears 



t)IRECT EXERCISES AFTER EAB( VR> 151 

not only on the quantity of our prayers, but on their 
quality also. You know, doubtless, of what different 
qualities prayer may be, and of what various character 
the desires which have a real existence within us, and 
a sincere utterance before God. The nature of these 
desires needs to be closely examined. It is by cher- 
ishing such feelings as are most honourable to God, 
and by mortifying those which are least so, that we 
shall connect our labours with his most abundant 
blessing. 

It might seem perhaps as though, if we did desire 
the success of our endeavours for the conversion of 
sinners, little danger of impropriety could attach to a 
feeling so obviously right. But let us look a little 
more closely into this matter. 

Our desires need watching as to their comprehen- 
siveness. They are apt to assume a very contracted 
and limited form. A familiar instance of this, to 
which I hope I may refer without offence, is to be 
found in the exercise of social or public prayer, in 
which it is frequently intreated that " some poor sin- 
ner" may be the subject of divine mercy on that oc- 
casion. But why is the petition limiced to one of the 
" poor sinners" present 1 Do not all equally need the 
Lord's mercy? Have we not compassion enough to 
pray for all 1 Or do we think that God's mercy is not 
•ample enough to extend to all 1 A tendency to some- 
thing of the same kind may very frequently be de- 
tected by us. We desire and expect but little ; and 
thus, like the king of Israel, who shot but three when 
he was desired to shoot as many arrows as he wished 
to obtain victories, we do dishonour to our bountiful 
God, and curtail the success of our own exertions. 



152 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

God is bountiful, and ready to perform works of mercy 
on a large scale, yet we cannot expect to receive 
more than we desire. Why should the narrowness 
of our desires contract the vastness of his love 1 Why 
should we hesitate to expand our prayers to the utmost 
extent of his possible blessing ; or need to be told 
twice, " Open thy mouth wide, and I will fill it" 1 

Our desires need watching as to their importunity. 
It may not be quite certain, perhaps, that we long 
very ardently for the conversion even of those for 
whom we have been labouring ; the strength of our 
desire, if justly estimated, may be far below the real 
value of the object. But let us beware of this. Im- 
portunity does much towards the success of prayer. 
The heart-searching God cannot be pleased to see us 
asking for inestimable blessings without proportionate 
earnestness. However sincerely we may ask for the 
conversion of sinners, if it be in a spirit of so little 
importunity that we can bear a refusal, a refusal may 
probably be given us. It is when our success becomes 
to us a matter of deep anxiety, of oppressive and 
almost overwhelming concern ; when we make the 
interest of a perishing fellow sinner our own, and 
bear it before God so ardently as to say, with Jacob, 
" I will not let thee go, except thou bless me ;" it is 
then that we are most likely to prevail. These are 
the prayers which indicate the highest sense of the 
value of the blessing, and which God may most con- 
sistently honour with an answer of mercy. If you 
really wish to prevail therefore, stir up your heart to 
a just and intense importunity. 

It is needful we should examine the ultimate object 
or reason of our desires. For admitting that it is the 



DIRECT EXERCISES AFTER LABOUR. 153 

Conversion of sinners we desire, this may be desired 
f for a variety of reasons, not all of them equally ac- 
: ceptable to God. We may desire it, for example, be- 
t cause they are persons with whom we have taken 
: pains, and as a gratification to ourselves ; or because 
they are in some particular relation to us, as parents, 
or children, or friends ; or because they would be 
added to the church with which we are connected, or 
\t would afford joy to the minister whom we love ; or 
' for other reasons of a similar kind. Now it is mani- 
- fest that all such desires may partake very little of a 
' spiritual character, and that they do not extend to that 
Which should be the great object of desire, namely, 
the glory of God and of his Son Jesus Christ. They 
! may be described as essentially selfish, and as con- 
taining little or nothing which can be acceptable to 
our heavenly Father. To show this, only let us 
imagine ourselves putting them into words, and plead- 
ing with God on these grounds : " Lord, I have been 
i taking great pains with these ignorant persons ; now 
I beseech thee gratify me by their conversion." It is 
impossible we could use such language as this ; but if 
the language be obviously improper, the thought, 
though less glaringly, must be equally so. This ob- 
servation may be followed up, so as to apply to desires 
for the conversion of sinners even for their own sake. 
Not that it is wrong to desire the salvation of sinners 
because their destruction will be dreadful, but that it 
is defective. It is right so far, but it does not go far 
enough. We should view the salvation of sinners in 
all cases as connected with the glory of God, and de- 
sire it for his glory : otherwise we clearly fail of a 
right spirit herein. We are not to be censured for 



154 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

feeling on the grounds I have enumerated, on the 
contrary they are all of them just and proper grounds 
of feeling: but as, on the one hand, our feeling should 
not stop there, but should always be excited in refer- 
ence to the glory of God also, so, more especially, 
when we come to present our desires before him, all 
others should be merged in this primary and absorbing 
one. We should be able to say, " Lord, if I seek the 
salvation of these persons, it is not because my poor 
labours have been bestowed on their instruction ; it is 
not because they are my relatives, and so peculiarly 
interesting to me ; it is not because they will augment 
my party, or increase my estimation ; neither is it be- 
cause it will save souls from death ; but it is because 
thy name will be glorified thereby. Gain thyself 
honour upon them by the victories of thy grace, and 
give them in recompense of the travail of thy Son." 
It is obvious that prayer of this tenor does more honour 
to God than all the rest, that it is more accordant with 
his will, and more adapted to obtain a blessing. He 
loves to see the creature shrink into nothing in the 
presence of the Creator, and to behold every wish 
amalgamating with and absorbed in the glory of his 
name. This is acceptable with him, and will emi- 
nently be honoured by him. 

If we wish prayer to prevail, it should be the prayer 
of faith. I am aware, indeed, that on this subject 
there are two extremes to be avoided ; and that false 
confidence is as much to be shunned as unbelief. 
Pious persons have sometimes indulged themselves in 
the positive expectation of particular results : as when 
parents have entertained a confidence that their chil- 
dren would be converted, or when a minister has 



DIRECT EXERCISES AFTER LABOUR. 155 

assured himself of a revival in the scene of his la- 
bours. Such feelings have commonly arisen from 
strong exercises of mind, from being much enlarged 
in prayer for these specific objects, or from a conscious- 
ness of having been enabled to bear them before God 
in faith. That out of such exercises there should 
arise a strong persuasion that the objects will be grant- 
ed, is not perhaps unnatural in minds of a sanguine 
temperament : yet I cannot but conceive that it is car- 
ried much too far, when it is relied upon as a certain 
indication of the divine intention, or " almost as a pro- 
mise." I know of no scriptural ground or warrant for 
such a persuasion. We have many assurances of God's 
willingness to hear and answer prayer ; but as these 
cannot be understood to intimate that every blessing 
asked for shall be bestowed, (a result as impossible in 
itself as it is inconsistent with facts,) so neither, now 
that inspiration has ceased, can any authority be found 
for the certain expectation of any particular event. 
That some extraordinary fulfilments of such expecta- 
tions have occurred is nothing to the purpose ; there 
have doubtless been also many instances of their frus- 
tration. While God has done every thing to awaken 
activity and to encourage hope, he has authorised no 
certainty of single results. In every prayer he requires 
submission as well as trust ; and in every case, our in- 
dividual perdition and sinfulness excepted, when we 
have used every means, and presented the most earnest 
supplications, he calls upon us to be ready to say, if 
the issue should require it, The will of the Lord be 
done. 

But if, on the one hand, there is danger of presump- 
tion, on the other there is far more danger of despond- 



156 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

ency. If our desires are often small, our faith is gen- 
erally less. Having perhaps a realizing view of the 
difficulties in the way of a sinner's conversion, but 
not having a due impression of the boundless power 
and mercy of the God of salvation, we make our sup- 
plication with fear and trembling, scarcely thinking it 
can be fulfilled, and often astonished if we find it to 
be so. Sometimes we are so much discouraged, per- 
haps, by the hardness of heart we have witnessed, that 
we think it can hardly be of any use to pray. And 
what justification do we think we have for such prayers 
as these 1 Or what effects do we expect from them 1 
Are these the high thoughts of the Saviour by which 
we imagine to do him honour? Have we forgotten 
the declaration, " whatsoever things ye shall ask be- 
lieving ye shall receive " ] Did we never read the 
commendation of the prevailing supplicant, "O wo- 
man, great is thy faith ; be it unto thee even as thou 
wilt" 1 Do we wish the spheres of our labour to be 
blasted, like that desolate region in which Christ could 
do no mighty works because of their unbelief? If we 
do not, it is high time that our unbelief should be 
remedied. It is too long that we have gone to his foot- 
stool with the desponding language, " Lord, if thou 
canst do any thing, have compassion on us and help 
us :" it is time we should hear the pungent rebuke, "If 
thou canst believe : all things are possible to him that 
believeth." Let us fix in our hearts the most unques- 
tionable conviction that, in the conversion of sinners, 
there is nothing which Christ is unable or unwilling 
to do. It is this kind of prayer which, if I may so 
speak, makes room for his interposition, and gives 



DIRECT EXERCISES AFTER LABOUR. 157 

scope for the full sweep of that mighty arm by which 
all things shall be subdued under him. 

By these observations it has been my wish to con- 
vince you that after your immediate endeavours of in- 
struction have ceased, well adapted and mighty efforts 
may be made for their furtherance and success. Do 
not think your work done when you leave the listen- 
ing class, or the tenement of sin ; the same work re- 
mains to be pursued in your chamber, and if your 
prayers there be of a working kind, the most extensive 
and blessed results may follow. Tt should be your con- 
cern to see that you are not wanting in this respect : if 
success be not granted you, let it not be because you 
have not asked it, or asked it in a manner which God 
might acknowledge. Want of success under any cir- 
cumstances is sufficiently grievous: but nothing can 
add so much to its bitterness as to discover that it has 
arisen from our own conduct. What pungent sorrow 
will it give us if we should have to say hereafter, ' I 
might have been more successful in the conversion of 
sinners, if I had more abounded in prayer : but I in- 
dulged a spirit of self-sufficiency, of indifference, of 
selfishness, or of unbelief, which made it necessary 
that success should be withheld for the punishment 
and correction of my sin.' What a terror is thus at- 
tached to the indulgence of evil ! What a bounty is 
associated with the cultivation of a right spirit ! — 
What is the real intensity of our longings for the sal- 
vation of those for whom we labour 1 Its whole force 
tends to impel us to our closets, and to melt our very 
souls into the language of the Psalmist — " O Lord, I 
beseech thee send now prosperity !" 



LECTURE IX. 

INDIRECT EXERCISES AFTER LABOUR. 



Canticles i. 6. 

They made me keeper of the vineyards^ but mine own 
vineyard have I not kept. 

In the preceding lecture I have shown you, dear 
brethren, that your endeavours for the conversion of 
sinners should be followed by devotional exercises, 
adapted to engage both your heavenly Father's accept- 
ance of your labours, and his blessing upon them. But 
this is not all. Exertions of this kind have an influ- 
ence on personal piety which demands attentive re- 
gard. While busily employed for the souls of others, 
you have need to look with peculiar care to the condi- 
tion of your own. Your very activity may give origin 
to snares against which you should be on your guard, 
or to perplexities which you should be able to solve. 

I. Exertion for the good of others may be connected 
with self-neglect. Every object that gains much of 
our attention and interest is apt to draw us ofl from 
the vigorous cultivation of personal piety ; and though 
such an effect might be little anticipated from pursuits 
of a religious kind, yet experience has abundantly 
shewn that they are in this respect little, if at all, less 
dangerous than secular engagements. We may easily 
devote ourselves with so much eagerness to efforts of 
pious usefulness, as to overlook in part, or to pursue 
with less earnestness and diligence, the important ex- 



INDIRECT EXERCISES AFTER LABOUR. 159 

ercises of the closet. The time allotted to these ex- 
ercises may be infringed upon and shortened ; or the 
attention paid to the discipline of the heart therein, 
may become less close and severe, through the dis- 
traction of the mind. This ill effect is so much the 
more probable, as it may seem to be justified by a suf- 
ficient reason. We should not suffer ourselves to 
abridge our closet duties, perhaps, for worldly busi- 
ness or pleasure ; but to make this sacrifice for the 
sake of doing good to the souls of men is a different 
thing, and one for which much more may be said. It 
is, besides, much more easy and agreeable to employ 
ourselves in probing another's heart, than in examin- 
ing our own. Of all the exercises of piety, those of 
the closet are the most difficult and unwelcome. They 
bring us under the weightiest influences of eternal 
things, and into an immediate strife with our inbred 
iniquities ; they lead to self-reproof, they call for hu- 
miliation and renunciation of sin, they awaken strenu- 
ous effort: but the instruction and persuasion of others 
can be conducted without any of this trouble, and, in- 
deed, with a sense of pleasure and satisfaction ; so 
that, whenever it is thought allowable to transfer our 
attention to this latter object, there is a great proba- 
bility of its being preferred. And why, we may some- 
times ask, why should it not be allowable 1 The oc- 
cupation is wholly of a religious nature ; and may it 
not reasonably be expected, that in promoting the 
edification of others we shall find our own ? 

These plausible and seductive representations do 
but conceal a snare. They lead us, while keeping the 
vineyards of others, to neglect that which demands 



160 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

our more immediate care, and thus both to inconsist- 
ency, to mischief, and to sin. 

1. Neglect of personal piety is sinful, inasmuch as 
the cultivation of the heart is our primary duty. It 
matters not that what we are doing is good and use- 
ful ; the maintenance of fellowship with God, the ad- 
vancement of conformity to his image, the vigorous 
mortification of sin, are obligatory on us above all 
things, even above all good things; and there is no 
rectitude in neglecting a primary duty in order to 
attend to a secondary one. If with respect to efforts 
for usefulness it may be said, these things ought ye to 
have done ; with respect to exercises of closet piety 
it may be said, also, these ought ye not to have left 
undone. By the neglect of them God is dishonoured 
and displeased. That we have been teaching the ig- 
norant and reclaiming the lost, is no sufficient apology 
for the omission of those expressions of gratitude, de- 
pendence, and dedication, which are perpetually due 
from us to our Maker and our Lord. 

2. Neglect of personal piety cannot be otherwise 
than mischievous. It is mischievous to ourselves, be- 
cause it infallibly leads to declension. However will- 
ingly we may suppose that spirituality and holiness 
may be preserved by being in the midst of engage- 
ments of a religious nature, it will be uniformly found 
that this is not the fact. A lively state of mind in re- 
ligion can never be maintained with a deserted closet. 
The heart requires to be often withdrawn from all in- 
ferior objects, and to be brought into immediate inter- 
course with the Father of spirits ; otherwise, the 
sense of our relation to him is speedily lost, and with 
it every thing that is influential or valuable in religion. 



INDIRECT EXERCISES AFTER LABOUR. 161 

It Is in his light that we see light. Whatever power 
the things of an eternal world may at any time have 
exercised upon us, if we are not frequently looking at 
them afresh, their influence- will quickly fade, and 
soon altogether vanish. The evils of the heart, if it 
be not habitually searched and disciplined, will re- 
sume a rapid growth, and acquire a prevailing do- 
minion. To neglect the cultivation of personal piety, 
therefore, is inevitably to consign it to decay. And 
this is surely a most serious mischief. What can re- 
compense us for a lukewarm and a deadened heart] 
What will be to us even the salvation of others, if we 
ourselves should perish ] What will it avail us to 
have kept the vineyards of others, if our own be un- 
fruitful ? 

But the mischief of a neglected heart is not con- 
fined to ourselves ; it will extend also to others, and 
to the very exertions we are making for their good. 
For what is the impulse of these exertions 1 What is 
it that awakens us to the condition of the ungodly, 
that quickens our sloth, that subdues our shame, that 
unseals our lips, that inspires us with earnest so- 
lemnity'? Is it not the force of inward piety, the 
power with which we realize the objects of a future 
world, and the influences we derive from communion 
with our beloved Lord 1 And when these decay, what 
is to become of the efforts which have sprung from 
theml They will infallibly decay also. You will 
lose your anxiety to be useful ; the wretchedness of 
sinners will affect you less deeply ; you will want a 
more powerful summons to draw you to the scenes of 
guilt and misery ; you will be less prompt in improving 
opportunities, and even in seeing them ; you will act 
p* 



162 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

with less vigour; you will yield to the influence of sin- 
ful shame ; you will be less earnest and solemn in 
your address ; and the efforts of usefulness which you 
do not abandon will be converted into a routine of 
duties, cold, heartless, and loathed. And will all this 
be no mischief? What, to see those very exertions 
for the sake of which you have sacrificed your soul's 
prosperity, lie around you in neglected fragments, 
half abandoned, and wholly unprofitable'? Dreadful 
result ! Yet the sure issue of a neglected heart. 

3. It must be added, that the neglect of personal 
piety while you are seeking the conversion of others 
is glaringly inconsistent. The principles which impel 
you to one are clearly adapted to lead you to both. If 
you value the soul of another because you have first 
learned to value your own, it is surely strange that, 
while you are caring for the spiritual welfare of others, 
your own should be forgotten. What can be the rea- 
son or the meaning of this 2 Either your neglect of 
personal piety throws ridicule on your concern for 
others, or your concern for them should put your 
negligence to shame. If the concerns of religion be 
important enough to lead you to press them on the at- 
tention of another, how is it that they do not engage 
your own ] Some grievous inconsistency is here ; 
and one from which you should make an instant 
escape, if you would not have all your exertions for 
others' good converted into cutting reproofs of your 
sin and folly. 

See to it, then, dear brethren, that if, as I hope, you 
are diligent in endeavouring to turn sinners unto God, 
you are noj thereby seduced from a close walk with 
him yourselves. While keeping the vineyards of 



INDIRECT EXERCISES AFTER LABOUR. 163 

others, remember the paramount importance of culti- 
vating your own ; think of the sin, the mischief, the 
inconsistency of neglecting it ; and so pursue every 
course of activity for the souls of men, that you may 
never have to utter the bitter lamentation, "They 
made me keeper of the vineyards, but mine own vine- 
yard have I not kept." 

II. Our exertions may give rise to self -compla- 
cency, or spiritual pride. Pride, which reigns in the 
heart of a carnal man, exists in that of the spiritual ; 
and is ready to avail itself of every thing on which it 
can feed. We shall not make many efforts to do good 
without having occasion to acknowledge its exercise ; 
and if we are not, like Jehu, betrayed into the excla- 
mation, " Come, see my zeal for the Lord of hosts," 
we may detect ourselves in the indulgence of a secret 
satisfaction and complacency of no hallowed kind. [ 
need not say to any experimental christian that this 
is a great evil. With all the sweetness which there 
may be in a feeling of self-complacency, there is in it 
no happiness : this lies in contrition and brokenness 
of heart. The indulgence of spiritual pride, indeed, 
constitutes a state of miserable inflation, in which 
there is no breathing of the soul after God, and can 
be none of his complacency in us ; which tends to 
conceal every sin, to extinguish every grace, and to 
annihilate every impulse of action and all sense of 
obligation. It is a state in which piety cannot pros- 
per, in which every evil is rapidly generated, and 
which is never remedied but by painful and heart- 
breaking exercises. 

The methods of preventing or mortifying such an 
evil are of the most obvious kind. As no feeling is 



164 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

more ready to arise, so none has less cause. It is only 
to look it in the face, and recall a few familiar facts, 
and it will be withered and put to shame. It is not at 
all necessary that, fcr this purpose, we should overlook 
or depreciate whatever in us may be really devoted or 
laborious. Humility needs not to be fostered by delu- 
sions. It does not consist in seeing ourselves other- 
wise than we are, but in taking a right view of our- 
selves as we are. It is pride that is generated in 
falsehood, and nurtured by misrepresentation. Let it 
be admitted that you are in some measure, and, per- 
haps, in a considerable measure, active for God and 
the souls of men ; set your labours before your eyes in 
their just magnitude and proportion ; estimate them at 
their full value, and allow of no undue acknowledg- 
ments of sloth, of no spurious and uncalled-for abase- 
ment; and still we say, that you need but recollect 
two or three things, to exterminate your pride, and 
cover you with shame. 

1. It is, in the first place, to be remembered, that 
whatever we have done has been moved by the Spirit 
of God, and not by our own. * Devotedness to God and 
compassion for the souls of men are among the last 
things which would ever have been in our hearts, if 
we had been left to ourselves. Sloth, self-indulgence, 
shame, fear, indifference, these are our natural charac- 
teristics, and they would have remained so to this day, 
had it not been for the communication of an influence 
from heaven of which we are utterly unworthy. 
Touching as the considerations are which we have 
now been brought to feel, our hearts are base enough 
to have long disregarded them all; and in order to 
render us alive to them, it has required no less than 



INDIRECT EXERCISES AFTER LABOUR. 165 

an almighty power. And are we going to feed our 
spiritual pride with this? Verily we ought rather to 
be overwhelmed with shame. What infinite conde- 
scension was it, that the blessed Spirit should transfuse 
his gracious influences into such hearts as ours, and 
make us the instruments by which he would display 
the wonders of his grace ! Can it ever become a 
question with us, to whom the praise of such efforts 
belongs ] 

2. We may recollect, too, that, even if we have 
done all that corresponds with our obligations to our 
Lord and Saviour, we have done no more. We have 
beeri barely just. That which we have dedicated to 
him is only that which he first gave us ; and which is 
become doubly his, by the costly purchase of redeem- 
ing blood. Not the smallest portion of it could we 
have withheld from him, without the perpetration of a 
robbery ; and the consecration of all our powers and 
resources to our Lord is but a compliance with the 
most powerful and constraining obligations. Of what, 
then can we be proud 1 If we had been showing kind- 
ness to one who had no claims upon us, if we had been 
rendering gratuitous service, then, indeed, some little 
complacency might be pleaded for ; but what man 
would think of making a boast that he was actually 
honest, and had neither robbed his master nor his cre- 
ditors? Yet this is all we can say, even if we have 
done all that we might have done ; and this is the sen- 
timent which our Lord teaches us to adopt, when he 
says, " Having done all, say ye, we are unprofitable 
servants; we have done that which it was our duty 
to do." 

3. But we may go further than this. Let us take a 



166 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

just view of t)ur obligations, and we shall find cause 
to acknowledge that we have come most afflictively 
short of them. One great reason, indeed, why our 
pride finds so much to feed upon, is, that we suffer 
ourselves to take so very contracted and erroneous a 
view of our duty. We compare ourselves most readily, 
either with ourselves at some former period, or with 
others at the present ; and if we find that we are more 
active than others are, or than we once were, we al- 
most infallibly indulge complacency on this account. 
But nothing can be more fallacious than such an esti- 
mate. Let us cease from these delusive and mischiev- 
ous comparisons, and turn to a different standard. 
The question for us to ask is, what are our obligations. 
What extent of dedication do they require 1 With 
what power of motive do they enforce it 1 We can- 
not doubt for a moment that there is required of us an 
entire dedication to the glory and service of God ; the 
dedication of every power, of every moment; the use 
of every means, the improvement of every opportuni- 
ty ; without fear, without shame, without apathy, with- 
out weariness. Nor can any thing be more touching 
or influential than the motives by which this entire 
consecration is pressed upon us. What can be of more 
weighty justice than our obligation to him that made 
us] Or what of more constraining tenderness than 
the love of him that redeemed us] Are we bought 
with a price, even with the precious blood of Christ, 
so that we are no more our own, but his 1 Are we by 
him reconciled to God, and restored to his friendship 7 
And what if we fail in the duties of friendship so re- 
stored, or withhold in any degree the dedication of a 
heart and life so purchased 1 Yet this is what we have 



INDIRECT EXERCISES AFTER LABOUR. 167 

done. To whatever extent our devotedness may have 
been carried, none of us can pretend for a moment 
that it has been perfect and without fault. But this is 
to say far too little. In comparison with the prompt 
and habitual dedication required of us, how much have 
we manifested of indifference and sloth, of self-indul- 
gence and neglect ! How often have we been unob- 
servant of opportunities, or slow in improving them ; 
how often have we been withheld by fear, or by a 
guilty shame ! How often has the spirit of dedication 
been wanting in our exertions, so that there has been 
little or nothing in them on which our Lord could cast 
an approving smile ! With all our activity, then, there 
still remains much to be lamented, much of criminal 
ingratitude, much of unkind return for love which 
ought to set all our hearts on fire ; and with such a 
load of iniquity lying on us, is it possible we can swell 
out with pride ! Are we going so to look at what we 
have done for Christ, as to overlook what we have not 
done ; and to pass by so much ingratitude without any 
shame and bitterness of spirit ! Let it never be, while 
our very services contain so much to abase us, and re- 
quire to be presented at the foot-stool of our gracious 
Lord, unworthy offerings as they are, with so much 
shame and confusion of face. 

III. Our labours may occasion exhaustion. I refer 
now to the state in which we may some times return 
from the scenes of our activity to our sacred retire- 
ments. We could have wished, doubtless, and per- 
haps we may have expected, to pass easily and delight- 
fully from one mode of serving God to another, and to 
find the heart fully prepared to use, as matter of soli- 
tary piety, the topics which have engaged us for the 



168 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN, 

instruction of others. You may ImveTbeen disappoint- 
ed in this expectation. After such exertions, you may 
have entered into your closet only to find yourself ut- 
terly unprepared for the exercises of secret piety, and, 
indeed, incapable of them. Your thoughts are distract- 
ed, your feelings unawakened ; or you might rather 
say, that you have no thoughts, no feelings, no head, 
no heart. You fail in every attempt you make to read, 
to think, to pray ; and this perplexes, vexes, and afflicts 
you. It seems as though you had poured out all your 
religious feelings to others, and that none remained 
within your own breast. 

1. Yet this is capable of explanation. In part it may 
be referred to the influence of bodily weariness. The 
work in w 7 hich you have been engaged, if you have 
carried it to any considerable extent, is one which 
makes large, though perhaps unperceived demands 
upon your strength, whether it be by the effort of con- 
tinued speaking or conversation, or by the exercise of 
the mind in endeavours to turn it to good effect. With- 
out being fully aware of it, therefore, you may return 
in a state of great exhaustion ; and if, in such a con- 
dition, you should enter into your closet, you would 
doubtless find all your exercises there affected by the 
general languor of your frame. It is manifest that 
such a case as this requires considerable allowance. 
It argues nothing in reality against the spirituality of 
your mind. The soul sympathises with the body, and 
is clogged by its weariness ; but, nevertheless, it is 
neither just nor reasonable to attribute that to the soul 
which belongs exclusively to the body. Our Lord 
himself has said, and allows us on proper occasions to 
appropriate the sentiment, "The spirit, indeed, is will- 



INDIRECT EXERCISES AFTER LABOUR. 169 

ing, but the flesh is weak." Under such circumstances, 
it is far better to betake yourselves to refreshment or 
repose, without tasking either the body or the mind for 
efforts of which at the moment they are alike inca- 
pable. 

In reference to this mitigating consideration, it is 
doubtless important to possess a criterion, by which we 
may judge with some satisfaction whether our apparent 
deadness be of a physical or a moral kind ; since no 
person of a tender conscience or a right spirit would 
be willing to avail himself of a mere pretext for dis- 
guising real indifference. Nor is it at all difficult for 
such a criterion to be found. Ask yourselves only, 
whether the unfitness which you feel for the exercises 
of religion extends itself equally to other occupations. 
If it does, you may safely refer it to bodily exhaustion ; 
but if it does not, you have reason to suspect some 
lurking mischief. If you are well enough to attend 
to worldly business, to converse with earthly friends, 
or to read the newspaper, you ought to be well enough 
to read your bible, and to commune with God ; and 
you would be so, if your heart were in a spiritual 
frame. If, on the contrary, you can do nothing else, 
of course it is not to be expected that you can attend 
to the exercises of religion ; and then you may leave 
yourself with confidence in the hands of him who 
knoweth our frame, and remembereth that we are dust. 

2. While our unfitness for devotional exercises may 
be ascribed in part to bodily exhaustion, it may be re- 
ferred, perhaps, in a still greater measure, to the forci- 
ble direction of our thoughts into a different channel. 
It may have appeared to us, indeed, that the commu- 
nication of religious instruction to others is so like the 

Q 



170 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

application of it to ourselves, that it would be natural 
and easy to pass from the one to the other. But, in 
fact, the two exercises are widely different. In both 
cases, it is true, we are engaged substantially upon the 
truths of religion ; but a little reflection will convince 
us that adapting them to, and bringing them to bear 
upon, the heart of another, is a very different occupa- 
tion from that of applying them to our own. It is the 
difference between cooking and eating, between the 
preparation of food and the reception of it ; and it was 
never known, I believe, that the preparation of food 
either nourished the body, or peculiarly sharpened the 
appetite. Our efforts in imparting religious instruc- 
tion will have the same effect in unfitting us for the 
engagements of secret devotion that any other occupa- 
tion would have ; and we shall find occasion for as 
much exertion of thought and discipline of mind, as if 
we were retiring from the family or the world. The 
whole object and aim which we have in doing others 
good is distinct and widely diverse from that which we 
pursue in the discipline of our own hearts: in the two 
cases we look at different things, we seek different re- 
sults, we use different means; we cannot, therefore, 
expect to pass from one to the other without being sen- 
sible of the change, or without an effort of reflection. 
It may be added, that our difficulty will be augmented 
in proportion to the intensity with which our minds 
have been engaged in the work of instruction ; because 
the force necessary to divert our thoughts from a pre- 
vious channel is always proportionate to that with 
which they have been impelled into it. For this rea- 
son it is probable that ministers of the gospel feel 
more of this trial than others, their minds being most 



INDIRECT EXERCISES AFTER LABOUR. 171 

intensely occupied in preparation for public instruc- 
tion ; but other persons may anticipate the experience 
of it also, in full proportion to the strength and anxiety 
with which they may be engaged in their work and 
labour of love. 

To explain this difficulty, however, is not to remove 
it. So far as it arises from an exercise of mind in a 
direction different from that of private devotion, it 
plainly requires to be contended with, like distraction 
of mind resulting from worldly business, or from any 
other cause. We should be very much aware of giv- 
ing way to it, as a state w 7 hich either need not, or can- 
not be overcome. Its direct tendency is to the dimi- 
nution and decay of spirituality, as, if it be indulged, 
we shall soon find to our cost ; and it is highly impor- 
tant, therefore* that it should be instantly checked. 
Nor is this by any means impracticable. It requires 
only the same efforts which are always found necessa- 
ry to withdraw our attention from earthly thoughts. 
It needs only that we should recollect ourselves, and 
call to mind, that, as we have been teaching others, so 
now we are come to teach ourselves, and to lay open 
our own hearts before God. If the mind does not in 
an instant turn from one employment to another, it 
does so by degrees, and no well directed effort for this 
end is lost. A diligent and vigorous entertainment of 
suitable topics will succeed in turning our attention 
from the state of others to our own, and in attaining 
the fixed communion with God after which we aspired. 
What we should deeply impress ourselves with is, that 
this is necessary, and the more necessary in proportion 
to the abundance of our exertions. Our Lord Jesus 



ITS THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

Christ spent whole days in instruction ; but he spent 
whole nights in prayer. 

We should take heed, likewise, that we do not carry 
too far the allowance which may be justly made for 
corporeal exhaustion. If we may on this ground pro- 
perly excuse ourselves from a vigorous effort of secret 
devotion in the evening, it does not therefore follow 
that the same excuse extends to the morning. Upon 
the contrary, with the return of bodily strength returns 
the obligation of retirement and prayer, and we should 
be watchful to apply the first of our restored energy to 
these sacred exercises. We shall find our inconstant 
and treacherous hearts too prone to make use of the 
apology, long after it has ceased to be just. The 
slightest consciousness of such a tendency must be 
considered as indicating that the actual omission of 
secret fellowship with God. however justifiable, has 
already done us mischief, and should impress us with 
the conviction, that a more than usual vigour of solita- 
ry piety will be necessary to prevent the permanence 
and aggravation of the evil. What you lose by weari- 
ness in the evening, you should endeavour to regain by 
extraordinary diligence in the morning. 

IV. Our efforts maybe attended with conflict. I am 
aware that conflict, though not a uniform, is not an 
unfrequent attendant on active experimental piety ; 
but we notice it now, as it may be more especially ex- 
cited by augmented labours in the cause of God, and 
the souls of men. When your hearts are most power- 
fully stirred up to indentify yourselves with the honour 
of your Lord and the progress of his gospel, and to 
make the most resolute exertions on behalf of the 
guilty and the lost, you find, perhaps, that your closets 



IJTDIRECT EXERCISES AFTER LABOUR. 173 

become the scene of an inward strife. You seem to 
have less sensibility to divine things than ever ; you 
stand painfully convicted of feeling nothing, or almost 
nothing, either for God or for man ; your prayers are 
embarrassed by the conscious feebleness, if not the en- 
tire absence of desire ; you seem to fail in every at- 
tempt to get near to God ; you find your secret exer- 
cises produce scarcely any other effect than an aug- 
mentation of your distress; and you leave the presence 
of your God with a heavy heart. You cannot say, in- 
deed, that at these periods you are without comfort in 
the social exercises of piety, or without the presence 
of God in his work; but these things make it yet more 
strange and afflicting to you that your solitary hours 
should be so unsatisfactorily spent. 

1. But these perplexities are not incapable of solu- 
tion. When, according to your own perceptions, you 
are more than ever characterised by indifference, self- 
indulgence, and sloth, it does not necessarily follow 
that these evils are really most abundant. It is true 
that you see more of them ; but this may be either 
because more light is thrown upon them, or because 
your discernment is become more ticute. When a 
person who, during the night, had dimly discerned the 
objects around him, begins to see them more clearly, 
he does not imagine that the objects themselves are 
changed ; he knows that the effect is to be ascribed to 
the dawning of the day. However perplexed the half- 
restored blind man might have been, who saw the 
" trees walking" converted into men, we know, and 
he soon came to know, that the change took place only 
in his organs of sight. It is thus when we see more 
of our inward evils. They were in our breast before, 



174 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

in their full magnitude and enormity, though we did 
not distinctly or powerfully discern them; and the 
light which has discovered them to us has no more 
created them, than a lamp carried into a deserted 
building would create the owls, the bats, and the ver- 
min congregated there. 

If an augmented view of our corruptions does not 
argue their actual aggravation, neither does a new 
consciousness of a want of feeling establish an aug- 
mented insensibility. You reprove yourself more se- 
verely than you ever did, for indifference towards the 
great objects which should inflame all your heart; not, 
verily, because you are more indifferent to them than 
you were, but because, by a brighter view of their ex- 
cellency, you are more deeply impressed with their 
desert. You are bitterly ashamed that you desire them 
so little ; which is only saying, in other words, that 
your heart is more powerfully exercised about them 
than it has been. You suffer an inward conflict ; your 
spirit feels its bonds, and pines that it cannot escape ; 
that is to say, your desires are vigorously awakened, 
and you are making arduous efforts after growing 
dedication to the Lord. 

The truth is, that instead of indicating a low and 
declining state of piety, your self-abasement and in- 
ward conflict are unequivocal evidences of vigour and 
prosperity. It is a general rule, that our corruptions 
most abound when they are least seen and contended 
with. The seasons when we really are most uncon- 
cerned and slothful, are those in which we should be 
.east willing to acknowledge it, or should speak of it 
with the least severity of self-reproof. 

2. In harmony with this view, and in confirmation 



INDIRECT EXERCISES AFTER LABOUR. 175 

of it, I may observe, that such seasons of humiliation 
and conflict are not characterised by the neglect of 
practical piety. On the contrary, I think I may safely 
say, that you are never more jealous of your temper, 
never more careful of your example, never more re- 
solved for action, never more watchful of opportuni- 
ties, never more solemn and affectionate, never more 
prayerful and dependent, than at such periods. With 
however little comfort, you are constrained to be faith- 
ful both to your fellow-men and to your Lord; and 
with all the severity of your inward exercises, there 
is combined a weighty sense and an habitual remem- 
brance of obligation, which bears you forward with an 
unusual steadiness through the duties of the day. But 
these are some of the best and most substantial fruits 
of piety. What better effects could any exercises of 
mind produce 1 

3. To this it may be added, that powerful exercises 
of mind, of whatever nature, may be regarded as an 
indication that God is fitting you for labour, and means 
to give you his blessing. Perhaps no kind of experi- 
ence is more adapted to prepare us for usefulness, than 
such as partakes largely of self-abasement and conflict. 
It makes us know both our weakness and our strength ; 
it opens to us the workings of our own hearts, that we 
may be the better able to trace those of others ; it en- 
dears the Saviour to ourselves, before we go to recom- 
mend him to the lost. And is not all this well ? Does 
it look as though God was angry with us, and meant 
to desert us in his work ? Can we say that, in con- 
junction with such experience, he does desert us in 
his work? On the contrary, is he not with us? Does 
he not stand by us arid keep us? And is it not in 



176 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

such seasons, so far as we can trace his dispensations, 
that he grants our principal success 7 

4. On this point it is not unworthy of notice, that 
many persons have trod the same path before us. And 
though the rule is by no means universal, yet in very 
numerous instances, men of eminent usefulness have 
been men of tried experience. It seems as though 
many of us could not be fitted for communicating 
spiritual riches, without ourselves being made to pass 
through the fire, in order to be purified from our dross. 
You will read the life of scarcely any person of con- 
siderable usefulness in the Lord's work, without meet- 
ing with accounts of deep abasement and distress. 
If we wish to partake of their joy, we must lay our 
account with partaking of their sorrows too ; and if 
we do resemble them in our griefs, we may hope to 
resemble them in their success. 

What we have to learn is, in one word, neither to 
misunderstand nor to repine at a state of mental trial 
and conflict Without being pleasant or desirable on 
its own account, it is always profitable and gracious ; 
it is an evidence that God is dealing with us in mer- 
cy ; and we need only to keep near to him, to find that 
the end of the Lord herein is both for our good and for 
his glory. If, on the one hand, a lively state of the 
soul without conflict might be rather desired ; on the 
other, the severest conflict is infinitely to be preferred 
to the peacefulness and tranquillity of slumber. The 
first matter of thankfulness is to be kept awake ; and 
if we childishly repine at the difficulties which meet 
us when our eyes are open, we may, perhaps, be suf- 
fered to fall again into a sleep, with the wretchedness 
and mischief of which all the conflicts of christian 
experience are not once to be compared. 



LECTURE X. 

SUCCESS EXPECTED. 



2 Corinthians, x. 4. 

For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but 
mighty through God, to the pulling down of strong 
holds. 

Upon the supposition, dear brethren, which I trust I 
may entertain, that you feel it your duty to strive for 
the conversion of sinners, and that you acquit your- 
selves of the obligation, I have spoken to you of the 
engagements which should precede your labours, of 
the manner in which they should be performed, and of 
the exercises by which they should be followed. It 
might seem now that the subject was exhausted ; but, 
before we quite take our leave of it, one topic of no 
inconsiderable interest awaits our regard. As your 
toil is directed to some ulterior object beyond the 
mere execution of the work, so your anxieties, it may 
be presumed, are by no means laid to rest when the 
work is done ; there is a result anticipated and watch- 
ed for, the fruit and the recompense of your labours. 
This result is the actual conversion of sinners to God 
by your instrumentality ; an object which is fitted to 
awaken the most lively feelings, and in relation to 
which our minds need to be diligently cultivated. 

In reference to this interesting subject, the success 
of our labours, I shall confine myself on the present 
occasion to three simple truths: the first is, that it 



178 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

should be earnestly desired ; the second, that it may 
be cheerfully expected; the third, that it should be 
justly estimated. 

I. First, in our endeavours for the conversion of 
sinners success should be earnestly desired. 

It might seem almost unnecessary to insist on so ob- 
vious a sentiment. Of course every one who engages 
in such a work does long for success, and with a de- 
gree of anxiety, it may be reasonably supposed, which 
has more need to be allayed than to be augmented ; 
yet, however natural such a state of mind may be, and 
with whatever apparent safety its existence might be 
taken for granted, we shall find in fact that there is 
the utmost necessity for being jealous of our own 
hearts on this point. It is very possible for much to 
be done by us in the instruction and exhortation of the 
ungodly, with a marvellously small portion of desire 
for their actual conversion. Among the sources to 
which such an evil may be traced, two may be here 
noticed. In the first place, we may find ourselves apt 
to look rather at the work to be done, than at the ob- 
ject to be attained ; we may enter upon it more under 
a sense of the obligation of discharging a duty, than 
impelled by a desire of accomplishing an end ; and in 
this case we shall be equally prone, when our labour 
is over, to rest in the work performed, and to be com- 
placent in having communicated instruction or reproof, 
without any eager looking for beneficial results. In 
the second place, despondency may produce a similar 
effect. Perceiving, what indeed is too obvious, that 
men are blind, inconstant, and stubborn, and reckoning 
it almost certain that little or no good will result from 
our endeavours, we may come to have little or no de- 






SUCCESS EXPECTED. 179 

sire that good may be done. Other causes no doubt 
contribute their influence to the same end. But the 
state of mind, however produced, is most evil and mis- 
chievous, and it demands an immediate remedy. On 
no point should we exercise a closer inspection of our 
feelings, or a more earnest care to rectify them. 

Inquire then, dear brethren, how it is with your- 
selves. You labour, as I hope, for the souls of men. 
Do you seize upon their real conversion to God as the 
object at which you aim, and without accomplishing 
which you can have no satisfaction 7 Are you casting 
an anxious glance over the field you have been culti- 
vating, to see whether the seed is springing up, and 
affording you any prospect of a harvest ? Or, having 
laboured, do you retire contented with duty performed, 
scarcely knowing whether any good has resulted from 
your toil, or scarcely moved to sorrow if an entire un- 
fruitfulness prevails? 

1. If you should ask for the reasons why so ardent 
a desire for success should be entertained, I should 
have only to reiterate what I have already, and per- 
haps repeatedly, stated, as to the unspeakable value of 
the souls of men, and the intimate manner in which 
their salvation stands connected with the glory of God 
and the recompense of the Redeemer. It is by pre- 
senting motives drawn from these topics that I have 
endeavoured to urge you to labour ; I have besought 
you to be active, because the object is so eminently 
worthy of your desire ; if you have undertaken such 
labours at all, it ought to be, and I trust it has been, 
under the influence of these considerations; and if 
this has been the case, it may be most justly expected 
that you should desire the object as well as labour for 



180 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

it. The reasons which have operated upon you are 
directly adapted to kindle desire ; and it is only by 
doing 1 so that they can be imagined to lead to exertion. 
If, for example, you have been actuated by a sense of 
compassion for souls ; if you have felt their unuttera- 
ble value, and yearned over their coming miseries, and 
have thus been led to instruct the ignorant and to 
warn the reprobate ; how is it that you stop at this 
point, and that your feelings are not carried forward 
to their actual conversion 7 Is there any thing in their 
merely being warned and instructed, which so much 
betters their condition that your compassion can be 
satisfied with it? If indeed they listen to instruction, 
and by it are induced to flee from the wrath to come, 
then is your gratification reasonable ; but if they do 
not, but on the contrary continue impenitent in sin, 
they are still, as in the first instance, in the way to 
ruin, and making an equal demand upon your pity. 
Nay, they make now a much larger demand upon your 
pity; for their condition is much worse than it was 
before, seeing they have anew hated instruction and 
despised reproof. Your very words of warning are, 
by their perverseness, turned into an aggravation of 
their guilt and wretchedness : if therefore you ever 
pitied them, your pity ought now to be more tender 
than ever; nor can you find any thing reasonable to 
allay it, short of their actual salvation. 

Or if you undertook endeavours for the conversion 
of sinners because your heart burned within you for 
the honour of God, whose name was daily blasphemed 
and his commands trampled on in your presence; if 
you have rebuked the ungodly because, as the friend 
of God, you felt a holy indignation against his enemies, 



SUCCESS EXPECTED. 181 

and a longing desire to reduce them to submission be- 
fore him ; from this state of mind it might equally 
have been expected that you would have been content 
with nothing short of such an actual result. To see 
the enemies of God still insulting him, and the hand 
of rebellion perseveringly lifted up, notwithstanding 
your interposition, is surely adapted, not merely to 
keep the fire of your indignation burning, but to raise 
it to a higher flame, inasmuch as the dishonour done 
to your Maker is thus grievously augmented. 

Or, finally, if you have been animated by love to the 
Saviour, and have striven for the good of sinners be- 
cause you longed that he might be recompensed for 
his dying pains and enjoy the fruit of the travail of 
his soul, this feeling would naturally bear you on to the 
completion of your object. While those to whom you 
are imparting instructions refuse it, you are gaining 
nothing for your Lord. It is only by the actual turn- 
ing of sinners unto him that you make any contribu- 
tion to his joy. If your advocacy on his behalf is re- 
pelled, he in your person is being wounded afresh and 
put to additional shame. 

When you consider, therefore, the nature and ten- 
dency of these impulses to your labour, you will per- 
ceive how justly it may be expected that your desires 
should go eagerly forward, and stop no where short of 
the actual conversion of those whom you instruct. 

2. The fact that you have laboured for the conver- 
sion af sinners renders it additionally reasonable that 
you should desire it. Whenever we bestow pains 
upon an object, it not only indicates that we had a de- 
sire for it in the first instance, but it tends to increase 
the ardour of that desire. No man likes to lose his 

R 



182 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

labour, or to fail of obtaining an object to which his 
efforts have been applied. The husbandman does not 
cultivate his ground for the mere sake of labouring, 
but for the sake of the crop which his toil is to pro- 
duce; neither does the merchant buy and sell for the 
mere sake of traffic, but of the gain which is to be ac- 
quired by his merchandize: and we know that the 
attention of such persons is eagerly directed to their 
respective recompense. It would be the same with 
ourselves in carnal things; and why is it not to be so 
in spiritual things 1 Is it when we exert ourselves for 
the souls of men, and only then, that we are content 
to labour for the mere sake of labouring, and that, after 
expending our best resources, we look for no return] 

The very supposition that we do not feel an ardent 
desire for the actual conversion of sinners under our 
instrumentality, involves inconsistencies of the most 
striking and the most painful kind, even if it does not 
bring into suspicion the motives by which we have 
been actuated. Have we, or have we not melted with 
pity for men, glowed for the honour of God, and pant- 
ed for the recompense of the Saviour ] If we have 
not, why have we sought the salvation of souls 2 If 
we have, why do we not fix upon its actual accom- 
plishment with more intense desire 1 Why are we in 
so graat a measure lukewarm as to the attainment of 
the object we profess to have been seeking ] If we 
do not desire it, why have we laboured 1 If we have 
felt enough to impel us to labour, whence the final lan- 
guishing of our desire? It is probable that these per- 
plexities must be unravelled by admitting, on the one 
hand, that these holy motives have not actuated us 
so extensively as they ought, and, on the other, that 



SUCCESS EXPECTED. 183 

their influence is afflictively transient. But let us see 
that this influence is revived and extended. Let us 
set the souls of men fairly before us; and by steady 
contemplation realize their intrinsic value, as well 
as the connexion of their salvation with the glory 
of God and the recompense of the Redeemer. Let us 
keep still in view the object for which we have been 
labouring ; let us cherish an anxious inquiry after the 
fruit of our toil; let us follow our instructions with ar- 
dent longings for success ; and never cease to watch 
the seed we have sown, while any hope of its fruitful- 
ness remains. 

II. Secondly, In our endeavours for the conversion 
of sinners success may be cheerfully expected. 

I do not say this in ignorance of the pride and en- 
mity of the heart of man, or in any fond imagination 
that the tidings of reconciliation will be spontaneously 
welcomed by the enemies of God. I know that the 
heart is desperately wicked ; but I know too that the 
power of God will be employed for its transformation, 
even that mighty power whereby he raised Christ 
from the dead, and whereby he is able also to subdue 
all things unto himself. 

Pious persons not unfrequently take a more discour- 
aging view of the usefulness of religious exertions than 
appears to me either scriptural or reasonable. It 
seems to be doubted by many whether any considera- 
ble or satisfactory results can be relied on, and even 
to be set down almost as an axiom that, in the present 
age, Christians are appointed to a course of labour, not 
indeed totally, but in a great measure unsuccessful. 
In confirmation of such an opinion experience is often 
appealed to, and instances of unfruitfulness and disap- 



1S4 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

pointment, of which no doubt many can be cited, ad- 
duced as forbidding the expectation of general or ex- 
tensive effects. Now I know that in times past suc- 
cess has not attended every effort for God, and that it 
would be vain to rely upon it with any particularity 
or uniformity in time to come; I am willing also to 
make the largest allowances that can reasonably be 
demanded on the score of unsuccessful exertion; and 
yet I am ready to maintain that, in a general view, 
success may cheerfully be expected. The material 
point between those who form a more or less encou- 
raging idea of the results to be anticipated from the 
use of religious means, is to ascertain the extent to 
which God himself has authorized the expectation of 
success. So far as we are warranted by scripture to ex- 
pect it, it is clearly reasonable to go ; and no farther. 
Let us enter briefly into this inquiry. 

No one can imagine for a moment that the scrip- 
ture authorizes us to expect the success of all endea- 
vours made for the salvation of men; or even that of any 
one particular effort, singled out from the rest. Some 
exertions will fail, and any exertion may fail ; but all 
w T ill not fail. How many, or what proportion, will 
succeed } When we refer to the language of promise, 
we find it, however encouraging, still indeterminate ; 
our labour shall not be in vain, but we know not which 
of our efforts shall prosper : yet the general aspect of 
the promises is clearly adapted to sanction the conclu- 
sion, that success will be the rule, and failure the ex- 
ception. We may approach nearer to some definite 
idea, however, by observing that the language of the 
inspired writers indicates and establishes an analogy 
between the results of exertion in the natural and the 



SUCCESS EXPECTED. 185 

spiritual worlds. " They that sow shall reap. What 
a man soweth that shall he also reap. He that sow T eth 
sparingly shall reap also sparingly. One planteth, 
another watereth, but God giveth the increase." Such 
is the language of the sacred penmen ; language in 
which there could be no propriety, if there were not 
an analogy between the natural and the spiritual 
worlds, as to the relation between activity exerted 
and effects produced. If our endeavours for the con- 
version of sinners may be represented as the sowing 
of seed, the fruits of those endeavours, it appears, may 
be compared to those which reward the labours of the 
husbandman ; they are as certain, and they will be as 
copious. 

The analogy thus presented to us will be found ap- 
plicable to the subject in all its aspects. It makes 
allowances for failures ; since it is very well known 
that, of the millions of seeds scattered by the hand of 
the husbandman, no inconsiderable number never ve- 
getate, and that of those which grow many do not be- 
come fruitful : besides which, there are blighted ears 
and blasted fields, there are seasons of scarcity, and 
years of famine. These are the representatives of our 
unsuccessful operations ; and certainly no small mea- 
sure of unrequited toil may be considered as fairly re- 
presented by these particulars. But look at the other 
part of the analogy. The toils of agriculture taken 
as a whole, are not unrecompensed, but satisfactorily 
and most bountifully rewarded. The perished seeds, 
the blighted ears, the blasted fields, the defective crops, 
never amount to the destruction of the harvest, nor 
entail ruin on the husbandman ; on the contrary, they 
are lost in the general productiveness of the earth, and 

R* 



186 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

forgotten amidst the plenty and the joy of the harvest- 
home. Such then, we are authorized to believe, will 
infallibly be the results of labours for the souls of men. 
We shall have many failures, but more successes ; we 
shall behold too many spots of barrenness, but we shall 
see a general fertility; much seed will perish, and 
many green ears be blighted, but those who sow shall 
reap ; and he that hath gone forth weeping, bearing 
precious seed, shall doubtless return again rejoicing, 
bringing his sheaves with him. On the whole, there- 
fore, the success attending labours for God will be not 
only satisfactory, but abundant. It is too little to say 
that it will be enough to recompense the expenditure ; 
it will be sufficient to inspire a grateful and overflow- 
ing joy, like the joy of harvest. 

While this analogy presents a most cheering and 
animating prospect, it has a further advantage, name- 
ly, that it leads to no extravagant or overstrained ex- 
pectation. While, according to the rule laid down, 
we shall be expecting enough to fill us with unuttera- 
ble joy, we shall at the same time be expecting no 
more than is ordinarily realized in other species of la- 
bour. We shall be observing, and not violating, the 
general principles of providential administration ; not 
anticipating for our labour any peculiar and surprising 
efficacy, but merely the common lot of well directed 
effort. There can be little hazard in indulging such 
an expectation. The wonder would be, not that it 
should be realized, but that it should be disappointed. 

1. In confirmation of this line of sentiment, it may 
be observed, in the first place, that the connexion of 
labour with proportionate success is a constant feature 
of the divine government. In whatever case God has 



SUCCESS EXPECTED. 187 

commanded men to labour, he has secured a recom- 
pense for their toil. When he enjoined the cultivation 
of the earth on our fallen parents, his language was, 
" In the sweat of thy brow thou shalt eat bread ;" and 
in wBfetever cases he has suffered such circumstances 
to exist as have induced men to labour, he has like- 
wise provided for a happy issue of their exertions. In 
truth, he has so constituted us that we regard a pros- 
pect of success as essential to rational exertion ; and 
that we feel a high probability, but above all a certain- 
ty of failure, a constraining motive to the abandon- 
ment of our toil. He neither induces nor expects us 
to spend our strength on what cannot be acquired. 
And as this is his uniform rule in natural things, so 
there is no reason to suppose that he has adopted a dif- 
ferent rule in spiritual things. When, therefore, we 
find that he not only permits the aspect of the world 
around us to be such as is fitted to awaken our com- 
passion and impel us to exertion, but that he himself 
engages us to it, not only by inducements of love, but 
by the voice of authority, with how much justice may 
we conclude that he proceeds upon the usual principle 
of his government, and means to requite the labours 
he impels. As he has given no intimation of an ex- 
ception in this case, we clearly can have no ground to 
imagine one ; and to this it may certainly be added, 
that in this case least of all it might be expected that 
an exception would be made. If the natural husband- 
man is secure of his harvest, still more may we be- 
lieve that the same recompense awaits the spiritual 
husbandman, who sows more precious seed, and looks 
for a more valuable crop. 

2. It is deserving of notice, in the second place, that 



188 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

in religious efforts the means are eminently adapted to 
the end. The success of all measures is naturally pro- 
portioned to their adaptation to the end designed ; and 
in any case in which it might appear that this adapta- 
tion was defective, an equal deficiency might justly be 
apprehended in the result. We are quite willing to 
allow the force of this argument in the instance of re- 
ligion. If it should appear that the means employed 
for its diffusion are but imperfectly adapted to that 
purpose, that they are little fitted to enlighten, to con- 
vince, and to persuade, let our anticipations of success 
be reduced accordingly. On this point hear the lan- 
guage of the apostle in the text. " The weapons of 
our warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God, 
to the pulling down of strong holds." He is here ex- 
pressing, not a sentiment of regret, but of gratulation. 
When he says "the weapons of our warfare are not 
carnal," he is not lamenting the absence of kingly 
patronage, of a richly endowed establishment, of posts 
of honour, or of secular emoluments, by which men 
might be induced to assume the profession of Christian- 
ity, or to defend it : he is rather rejoicing in the sepa- 
ration of the gospel from such pow T erless engines, and 
triumphing in the reflection that he was working with 
better adapted means. " The weapons of our warfare 
are not carnal." Happily we are not operating in 
methods which could only tend to make men hypo- 
crites instead of christians, and so to render our ap- 
parent success but a disguise for our real defeat. We 
bring into the field a more effective artillery. We 
have truths which make the understanding full of light, 
which take a fast hold upon the conscience, which pre- 
sent moving appeals to the heart, we have all that 



SUCCESS EXPECTED. 189 

earth, or heaven, or hell, can contribute to influence 
mankind; and these weapons are too well fitted to 
their work to be applied in vain; they are mighty- 
through God to the pulling down of strong holds. The 
holy scriptures are able to make men wise unto salva- 
tion; and where the instrument employed discovers 
so eminent an adaptation to the end, it would be con- 
trary to all rule not to anticipate a proportionate effect. 
3. To these topics may be added, in the third place, 
a reference to the specific promises with which the 
sacred word abounds. The call to labour is never se- 
parated from some annunciation of success. " They 
that sow shall reap." Even the uncertainty allowed 
to be attendant upon labour is used as an argument to 
diligence. " In the morning sow thy seed, and in the 
evening withhold not thy hand ; for thou knowest not 
whether shall prosper, this or that, or whether both 
shall be alike good." The louder the call to activity, 
the stronger is the assertion of its recompense. 
" Wherefore be ye steadfast and unmoveable, always 
abounding in the work of the Lord, for as much as ye 
know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord." 
The very discouragement to which the labourer is lia- 
ble is most graciously met and relieved by the decla- 
ration, "He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing 
precious seed, shall doubtless return again rejoicing, 
bringing his sheaves with him." Upon what principle 
could the oracles of truth present to us such passages 
as these, if a proportionate and ample success were 
not secured to our endeavours? If labour for God 
were to issue in the melancholy and cheerless blank 
which our fears sometimes picture to us, is it possible 
that a God of kindness and of truth would have thrown 



190 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

such brilliant lights on the path of labour itself, and 
thus have cherished a fallacious expectation, by which 
final disappointment would be rendered more bitter 
and overwhelming ! 

4. In confirmation of our general principle, we may 
appeal, in the last place, to the testimony of history : 
for with whatever instances of unsuccessful labour we 
may be met, we are convinced that the voice of his- 
tory on the whole is decidedly in our favour. To as 
great an extent, and with as much certainty, as the 
tilling of the ground renders it productive, does the 
cultivation of the moral waste render it fruitful in 
righteousness. Never, on the one hand, has there 
been a time of drowsiness and inaction, in which the 
gospel chariot did not slacken" its pace, or suspend its 
progress ; and seldom, on the other, has there been a 
season of wakefulness and energy, without a measure 
of enlargement and prosperity. We allow exceptions ; 
but we are sure all history testifies that this is the 
rule. Now even a doubtful principle is admitted to 
be established, when it has been tried by the test of 
experience, and found to hold good : if, therefore, in 
the first instance, there could have been any doubt as 
to the success of our labours for God, at length these 
doubts should be given to the wind. The principles 
of the divine government and the promises of divine 
love have been too long tried, and too often found 
faithful, to be called in question almost at the end of 
the world. If they were to be questioned at all, it 
should have been in earlier ages, in the protracted 
darkness of popish idolatry, or amidst the fury of pa- 
gan persecution ; but it must not be now, when our 
difficulties are less, when our prospects are brighter, 



SUCCESS EXPECTED. 191 

when we are visibly nearer the glorious consumma- 
tion, and when all past ages are lifting up their voice 
to cheer us on to the final assault of the kingdom of 
darkness. 

Whatever difficulties your own separate experience 
may present to you, therefore, dear brethren, set it 
down as an incontrovertible maxim, that labour for 
God shall not be in vain. Neither, on the whole, shall 
your own be so. Chide an unbelieving heart, and 
maintain a quarrel with a desponding spirit. Not only 
let your desires extend themselves, but let them be 
consolidated into expectations. Do not allow your- 
selves to think that no good will be done. Cherish a 
belief, on the contrary, that much good will be done, 
though you know not when, nor how, nor to what ex- 
tent ; and that good enough will be done, to recom- 
pense you for your trouble, and to give you a part in 
the joy of the harvest home. 

III. Thirdly, in our endeavours for the conversion 
of sinners success should be justly estimated. 

I have been leading you, in the former part of this 
discourse, to estimate it highly ; and it might not un- 
naturally seem that it could not be estimated too 
highly. Neither can it be so, when viewed in itself ; 
but it requires to be viewed in connexion with an- 
other object, by the influence of which our apprecia- 
tion of it must be modified. This second object is the 
glory of God, an object to which the conversion of 
sinners bears an intimate relation. Now it is plainly 
incumbent on the friends of God to desire both the 
glory of his name and the conversion of sinners ; but 
the glory of God should be primary, and the conver- 



192 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

sion of sinners subordinate. We should desire the 
latter much, but the former more. 

1. That this should be the case will appear if we 
consider, that the glory of God is essentially the first 
and most important of all objects. He is the Creator ; 
all besides are creatures, and as such infinitely infe- 
rior to him. He is the fountain of all blessedness, the 
universal sovereign ; and his glory is of more im- 
portance to the universe than any other consideration. 
Hence, therefore, in any rightly disposed mind, it 
ought to be, and will be, the first object of regard, 
taking precedence of all others, however interesting 
and important any others may be. With reference to 
the conversion of sinners it may be justly said, that it 
is of more consequence that God should be glorified 
than that any sinner, or that all sinners, should be 
saved. 

2. In the scope of human duty likewise, the Crea- 
tor stands before the creature. We are to love the 
Lord our God with our highest affection, and our 
neighbour only with that secondary regard which we 
are authorized to &x upon ourselves. The withdraw- 
ment of our supreme regard from our Maker is the 
essential character of iniquity, and the restoration of 
it eminently pertains to the reconciliation of a sinner 
to God. As every christian would prefer his Maker 
to himself, so will ha^refer his Maker equally to his 
fellow-creatures ; and he will consequently estimate 
even the salvation of men, however highly, still in 
subordination to the glory of God. 

3. In truth, this subordination is manifest from the 
fact, that the conversion of sinners is to be desired in 
order that God may be glorified thereby. This is one 



SUCCESS EXPECTED. 193 

of the main reasons why every friend of God is called 
upon to labour for it. It is therefore obvious that, in 
this very work, the glory of God is the chief end, and 
the conversion of sinners the subordinate one. Though 
valuable for its own sake, it is not for its own sake 
alone that a christian pursues it ; but because it is 
conducive to an end yet more valuable, namely, the 
glory of God our Saviour. 

Having established the sentiment that the conver- 
sion of sinners ought to be estimated subordinately to 
the glory of God, I may be asked perhaps to what end 
I have done so, and whether the glory of God is not 
identified with the conversion of sinners. Now there 
is no question but the conversion of sinners is in all 
cases to the glory of God ; but it requires to be ob- 
served, that, when sinners are not converted, God may 
be glorified still. If they listen to instruction and bow 
to reproof, this renders honour to the Lord ; and if 
they harden their neck and perish in their sin, still 
will the Lord get himself honour upon them, if not as 
a merciful Saviour, yet as a righteous Judge. The 
honour of God is not suspended upon the penitence 
of the rebellious. By their submission he would be 
honoured in one way, by their obduracy he will be 
honoured in another ; but in every case he will be 
glorified. 

If it should be apprehended that the effect of this 
sentiment might be to harden the heart against sin- 
ners, and to render us less concerned for their salva- 
tion, there are not wanting means of obviating sucli 
an inference. It might be observed, that the view we 
have taken diminishes nothing of the value of salva- 
tion itself. To whatever extent God may be glorified 



194 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

in a sinner if impenitent, his state of guilt and misery 
loses none of its afflictiveness : still it is as dreadful a 
thing for him to be subject to eternal wrath, and as 
urgently as ever are we impelled, by all motives of 
compassion, to snatch him as a brand out of the lire. 
It is an undoubted truth that God will be glorified by 
the ways of his providence ; although the distresses 
of the afflicted should not be relieved ; but no benevo- 
lent man allows himself, on this account, to look upon 
the woes of his species with indifference. Any per- 
son who should make such a use of the sentiment 
would stand convicted of a callous and unfeeling 
heart. It is the same in temporal and in spiritual 
things. The man who can look on unmoved while 
sinners perish, because God will be glorified in them 
whether they are saved or lost, is manifestly destitute 
of spiritual feeling. He takes gromid on which no 
motive can ever reach him. He will do nothing until 
he sees that God's glory is absolutely suspended upon 
the issue ! Then verily he may resign himself to 
eternal sloth ; for that will never be. 

It may, in like manner, be observed of all the other 
motives which impel us to exertion for the salvation 
of men, that the security of the divine glory in no de- 
gree destroys their applicability, or diminishes their 
force. Our minds may and should be yielded to the 
influence of pity for men, of love to Christ, and of 
calls to duty, as freely and as fully as though the glory 
of God were altogether out of the question. This may 
be to us a refuge from disappointment, but it can 
never be justly or consistently made a screen from 
obligation. Besides, a regard to the glory of God still 
combines its impelling power with that of the other 



SUCCESS EXPECTED. 195 

motives employed. For though God may be so glo- 
rified by the course of his administration towards im- 
penitent sinners as to be complacent in its issue, al- 
though they perish ; yet the glory brought to his name 
by those who repent and are saved ought in every 
case to be most strongly preferred by us, and most ar- 
dently sought. When, at the last day, we behold the 
final destruction of the impenitent, we may, and doubt- 
less shall, be enabled to acquiesce — may I say to re- 
joice ? — therein, and to say, " So let all thine enemies 
perish, O Lord :" but as yet there is too much of hu- 
man tenderness about us to fit us for such a scene. 
Happy as we may be in the thought that, whether 
men will hear, or whether they will forbear, God will 
be glorified, it were not only unchristian but unnatural 
and inhuman, if we were not ardently to wish that 
his glory might be won in the way of mercy, rather 
than of vengeance. The glories of God's vengeance, 
even at the last, when we shall be much better fitted 
for contemplating them than we are now, will be aw- 
ful, and demand a solemn acquiescence ; the glories of 
his grace will afford us matter of triumphant joy and 
everlasting praise. These are the glories which it is 
ours to win for him ; those of his wrath he will ac- 
complish for himself. 

The primary character of the divine glory, how- 
ever, though it does not impair our motives to exer- 
tion, has an important bearing both on cases of failure 
and success. When our labour has had a blessed issue, 
and we have been instrumental in turning a sinner to 
God, we shall thus be led to recollect that there is an 
ulterior object to which t^iis success is conducive, and 
for the sake of which we have sought it ; while amidst 



196 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

baffled efforts and defeated exertions, it will afford us 
the consolation of knowing that one valuable end has 
been answered by our labours, although that at which 
we more immediately aimed has not been accom- 
plished. The bearings of this sentiment, however, 
are too extensive to be entered upon here ; and we 
shall have occasion to recur to it in the two lectures 
which remain. 



LECTURE XI, 

SUCCESS WANTING. 



Isaiah liii. 1. 

Who hath believed our report ? And to toliom is the 
arm of the Lord revealed ? 

And is this really the language, dear brethren, with 
which you are obliged to return from your attacks on 
the kingdom of darkness, after having gone forth to 
them as on the Lord's side, and having been encour- 
aged by the assurance that the weapons of your war- 
fare, being not carnal but spiritual, should be mighty 
through God to the pulling down of strong holds 1 Are 
you constrained to return discomfited ? Are the per- 
sons still ignorant whom you have been striving to 
enlighten; are those still obdurate whom you have 
been trying to subdue ; and those still perishing whom 
you have been endeavouring to save ! Surveying the 
field in which you have laboured, have you to say, with 
the lamenting prophet, that none have believed your 
report, and that the arm of the Lord hath not been re- 
vealed ? I would fain hope that this is not the case 
with you all, nor altogether the case with any of you ; 
but it is probably so to a sufficient extent to render 
appropriate and beneficial the consideration we may 
now bestow upon such a state of things. 

I begin, then, dear brethren, by expressing sympathy 
in your*grief. For of course it is to you a source of 
grief: unquestionably so, where those whose fcalva- 



198 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

tion you seek are the objects of your tender affection, 
and their welfare ever present and ever dear to you ; 
but I trust not in these instances alone. You labour for 
the conversion of some who are not bound to you by 
any other ties than those of a common nature and a 
common ruin ; and if among these your efforts are un- 
successful, it may well be a matter of sorrow. In the 
first place here is labour lost. You have devoted a 
portion of time and bodily strength, some exercise of 
mind and efforts of heart, with perhaps some difficulty 
or sacrifice, to an object which, after all, you have not 
attained. You would feel disappointed and chagrined 
if you had exerted yourself for any earthly object and 
had not succeeded ; how much more tenderly should 
you bewail a failure in one that is spiritual and eter- 
nal ] In the next place, your labour is without one of 
the most natural and satisfactory tokens of your 
heavenly Fathers acceptance. To him you have pre- 
sented it, and you look for its fruitful ness as the token 
of his blessing ; but while no such result appears, you 
have ground for apprehension that your services are 
not acceptable, that the Lord is not pleased to employ 
you for good, but rather that he throws you aside, as a 
vessel in which he has no pleasure. In addition to 
these considerations, which refer to yourselves, are 
some of a more generous kind. You see, for example, 
that the spiritual wretchedness of men continues, not- 
withstanding all your efforts to relieve it. Still are 
they blind and carnal, profligate and stubborn, guilty 
and undone ; still are they beneath God's anger, and on 
the brink of perdition. These things you felt so strong- 
ly in the first instance, that they impelled you,*in part, 
to the efforts you have made: how naturally then 



SUCCESS WANTING. 199 

should you bewail them now, seeing that they have 
lost none of their force, but are rather aggravated by 
continuance, and much more so by the rejection or the 
neglect of your kind endeavours. You see, too, what 
perpetual dishonour is done to God. Still his name is 
blasphemed, his glory disregarded, his law trampled 
on, his mercy despised; and can you, as a friend of 
God, look upon such a scene, and not glow with a holy 
indignation for his name 1 What can be more natural 
than that you should feel and say, with the psalmist, 
" Rivers of waters run down mine eyes, because men 
keep not thy law V 

If topics so justly adapted to move your feelings do 
not move them, depend upon it that something is wrong. 
Either you never did cherish a right temper in this 
respect, or there is come over you a spiritual callous- 
ness, rendering you insensible to what you once felt, 
or the just excitement of feeling is prevented by the 
influence of some erroneous notions or misapplied 
truths. Beware especially of this last source of mis- 
chief. Do not suffer your feelings to be blunted in 
regard to the spiritual wretchedness of sinners, because 
you are become familiar with it, or because your efforts 
have been met with lightness, resentment, or ingrati- 
tude, or because it may seem of no use to make any 
further exertion, or because God must work, and he 
will work his pleasure and save his elect. None of 
these considerations, whatever truth there may be in 
them, alter the sorrowful facts that the subjects of your 
unsuccessful labour are still in sin and misery, at once 
dishonouring God and ruining themselves, while your 
fruitless labours have only given them more instructions 
to despise, and assistance in accumulating greater 



200 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

guilt. That they are obdurate and insensible makes 
their case but the more melancholy. You would not 
become indifferent to temporal distress on any such 
grounds as those just mentioned ; and there is no point 
in which you should treat spiritual otherwise than 
temporal wretchedness, except that your feelings should 
be much more intense. 

If your want of success is to you a matter of grief, 
dear brethren, allow us to say that we sympathize 
with you in that sorrow. It is a just, a holy, a gene- 
rous sorrow; and it may well be ample. But sympa- 
thy is not all that we offer you ; we proceed to address 
to you some considerations by which your feelings may 
be regulated and turned to advantage. 

I. And, first, we may observe, chat your judgment 
respecting your success is probably, and almost certain- 
ly, fallacious. It may seem to you, indeed, so far as 
you can judge, that your labours have been unsuccess- 
ful ; but how can you judge ? There are two grounds 
on which it may be made plain that we cannot, at pre- 
sent, form any thing like an accurate conclusion on 
such a subject. 

The first is, that, even if every thing were known 
to us, it is much too soon for any judgment to be form- 
ed. Upon the supposition that no good effect has re- 
sulted hitherto from any thing that we have done, no 
proof whatever arises that benefit will not accrue 
hereafter. The time during which the instructions we 
have given may operate to produce conviction and 
conversion is not yet terminated, so that calculation is 
quite set at defiance. As seed may lie buried long in 
dust, and yet ultimately vegetate, so knowledge com- 
municated and disregarded now may have decisive in- 



SUCCESS WANTING. 201 

fluence hereafter, when perhaps poverty, or sickness, 
or some other circumstance, shall induce reflection 
upon it. To this it may be added that your opportu- 
nity for exertion is not yet past; so that if what you 
have already done be not of itself effectual, it may be- 
come so in combination with what you may hereafter 
do, and may have prepared the way for successes which 
are at hand. I am not now concerned to show that 
you will have success ; only that it is impossible for 
you to say you will not. The harvest is not yet ; nor 
can you by any possibility, at least not without the 
gift of inspiration, to which I suppose you do not pre- 
tend, tell in the seed-time what the harvest will be. 

In the next place, we are far from knowing every 
thing which has already occurred. Some of those for 
whose good we have laboured incidentally, as by the 
distribution of tracts on the way side, for example, are 
not within our observation at all, so that if any good is 
done by such means, we are never likely to know it 
till the day of God ; others may be withdrawn from 
our instructions before any effect appears, so that the 
benefit imparted to them likewise may be unknown ; 
and it is but a very imperfect judgment we can form 
even of those who are under our continual inspection. 
There is something in the commencement of piety 
often dubious or studiously concealed ; and while we 
are lamenting what we conceive to be cases of hope- 
less obduracy, he who seeth in secret and penetrates 
the heart may be saying, " Surely I have seen Ephraim 
bemoaning himself." In a word, it is obvious that none 
of us can tell what the influence of our endeavours ac- 
tually is, and it is strange that we should ever pretend 
to do so. It would seem as though we assumed the 



202 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

attribute of omniscience for this purpose, and imagin- 
ed ourselves to be upon an elevation where none but 
our Maker ever sits. We may not know that we have 
had success; but we can never be entitled to affirm that 
we have had none until the arrival of the final day, 
when for the first time the volume of providential his- 
tory will be laid open to our view. Keep aloof, there- 
fore, dear brethren, from such a disconsolate and 
groundless conclusion. It is always the language either 
of ignorance or of precipitancy. Be patient : your har- 
vest may yet be abundant enough to put your mur- 
murs to shame. 

Instead of your actually having no success, your 
case amounts only to this, that the result of your la- 
bours is at present partly concealed. It is not only in- 
evitable that it should be so, but it is wise, and you 
should here perceive an occasion for the discipline of 
your heart. You are not, it seems, to identify your 
impulses to labour too closely with your actual suc- 
cesses. You must be willing to. work from principle, 
rather than for gratification ; you must learn to look at 
some other objects besides the results of your exer- 
tions ; you must know whence to derive influences in- 
dependent of them ; and in so far as success may be 
allotted to you, you must be content to wait for the 
knowledge of it, till a period when it can be more 
safely and advantageously given : and though you may 
have thus far to labour in darkness, your toil is surely 
sufficiently cheered by the promises of a faithful and 
gracious God, to authorize and encourage you to pro- 
ceed. 

2. But I am willing to accept your own statement, 
and to suppose that your success is quite as small as 



SUCCESS WANTING. 203 

you imagine it to be. No man hath believed your re- 
port, or yielded to your persuasion. I ask, what then 1 
You say, probaby, "the arm of the Lord hath not been 
revealed : he has not granted a blessing to my labours." 
Doubtless this may have been the case ; but it is need- 
ful for you to pause and to consider before you con- 
clude it to have been so. Another case may have ex- 
isted, and one of a very different kind. 

Make it a matter of serious examination, whether 
your exertions have been such as to authorize the ex- 
pectation of success. Defects and improprieties may 
have attended them, which will sufficiently account 
for their inefficiency, without attributing it to the ab- 
sence of the divine blessing. 

It is worth your while to inquire, whether you 
have made any real effort for the conveision of sinners 
at all. Much may go under this name, and wear this 
general aspect, which very little deserves to be so con- 
sidered. You may be a teacher in a Sunday school, 
for example, and say almost nothing adapted to awak- 
en pious emotion ; or you may be a visitor of a chris- 
tian instruction society, or otherwise may make visits 
apparently and professedly of a religious character, and 
suffer your discourse to turn principally or entirely 
upon inferior subjects. Now to whatever extent this 
may have been the case, it is plain that you have not 
been trying to convert sinners, and it can be no won- 
der that you have not succeeded. This is sowing, not 
wheat, but chaff, and can never produce a harvest. 

Inquire further, whether, when you have striven to 
save a soul, you have used the divinely adapted and 
appointed means. This only means is the word of God, 
which throws light into the understanding, and makes 



204 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

its appeal to the conscience and to the heart upon spi- 
ritual grounds. But in efforts for religious usefulness 
it is too often the case, that an appeal is directly or in- 
cidentally made to a sense of temporal interest. The 
relief of present necessities, to which a religious call 
not unnaturally leads, may be made, in whole or in 
part, the motive which is brought to bear on a person^ 
as the reason why we expect them either to listen to 
us, or to attend a prayer-meeting in the neighbour- 
hood, or to make their appearance at the house of 
God. However likely this method of bringing people 
under the means, as it is called, may be to do them? 
good, the application of wordly motive is much more 
likely to do them harm, and it is clearly a proceeding 
upon which God can never be expected to smile. 

Inquire again, whether, if you have used the right 
means, you have used them in a proper manner. In 
speaking for God, have you spoken of him the thing 
that is right, and presented his truth to the under- 
standing of men in its simplicity and purity ! Have 
you according to the scriptures, made clear the grounds 
of duty, the nature and evil of sin, the righteousness 
of God's anger, and the method of fleeing from the 
wrath to come 1 Or have your instructions been de- 
fective, inconsistent, or obscure ] Have you brought 
forward the body of motives which the bible contains, 
exhibiting each in its due force and proportion 1 Or 
have you suffered the artillery of heaven to sleep, with- 
out uttering its voices, either of terror or of love 7 
And withal, how much of solemnity, faithfulness, and 
tenderness, have you carried into the work] Have 
you always spoken of salvation as though you thought 
it of infinite moment ? Have you shown so much ten- 



SUCCESS WANTING. 205 

dernes that a sinner could not justly be angry, and 
yet such resolved fidelity that his conscience could 
not evade your attack ) You cannot but know how 
much of the adaptation of your endeavours to the end 
designed is involved in these things. No wisdom can 
be expected to result from obscure and defective in- 
struction, no impression from a slender exhibition of 
motives, no efficiency from harsh or timid appeals; 
and in whatever measure we may have been wanting 
in skill or energy in the use of our weapon, it can ex- 
cite no surprise that we have been unsuccessful in the 
war. 

Inquire, lastly, whether your labours have been 
conducted in a right spirit towards God. You know 
the maxim of his government, " Them that honour me 
I will honour." Can your efforts bear the application 
of this rule 1 Have you gone forth under a deep sense 
of your own insufficiency and helplessness, and with 
an earnest supplication for his presence and blessing ! 
Have you devoutly acknowledged the necessity and 
excellence of the holy Spirit's influence, and rendered 
due honour to his gracious agency 1 What has been 
your leading aim, and impelling motive 1 Has it been 
your first and ardent desire to glorify God, by bearing 
a testimony for him in his controversy with a rebel- 
lious world, and thus striving to reconcile sinners to 
him ! Have you gone with a simplicity of motive, and 
a cleanliness of heart, which the heart-searching God 
could regard with approbation ? If on such points as 
these we have been defective ; if even the opposite 
evils have had place within us ; if we have been in- 
duced by human entreaty, or have regarded human 
approbation; if we have indulged a spirit of self- 



206 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

sufficiency, or of self-exaltation ; these things are 
calculated to act like mildew on the seed we have 
sown, and to blast all our expectations of its fruitful- 
ness. 

T hope that in the course of such an examination, 
we shall not find uniform and unmingled evil ; but, 
on the contrary, something of well principled and well 
adapted labour, for which to be both thankful and 
hopeful. Yet which of us in these respects is without 
sin'? Which of us may not readily discover sin enough, 
in all these respects, to teach us how undeserving we 
are of success, and to make us acknowledge the for- 
giving grace of the Lord whom we serve, if any bless- 
ing be granted to our toil ? When we think what 
means should be employed for the conversion of sin- 
ners, in what manner and in what spirit, we may 
find causes enough why we have not been successful, 
without ascribing it to the sovereignty of God. We 
should think it altogether strange and unwarrant- 
able, if a husbandman who had neither carefully 
ploughed his fields, nor sowed clean seed, were to 
say, when he beheld his failing crop, " The Lord has 
not blessed me this year." The Lord has not blessed 
him ! He should much rather confess that he has 
been wanting in that reasonable industry and skill 
which the cultivation of the soil requires. In like 
manner we, when we look on the spiritual barrenness 
of our field of labour, must be aware how we ask, 
why hath the Lord withheld his benediction ; and 
must reflect with how much more justice we may 
inquire, why we have shown no more holiness, vi- 
gour, and wisdom. To how great an extent will it be 



SUCCESS WANTING. 207 

incumbent upon us to acquit our master, and to con- 
demn ourselves ! 

3. Perhaps, however, after the most serious exami- 
nation, you may be ready to hope that your labours 
have contained something on which your heavenly 
Father might smile, something, through grace, of a 
sincere dedication to his glory, and of an humble, how- 
ever imperfect, employment of his word in his own 
strength ; and yet you do not see the blessing you have 
hoped for on your toil. Conclude, then, that the Lord 
has been pleased to withhold from you his blessing ; 
and observe the lights in which this state of things 
may be regarded. 

It is to be considered, undoubtedly, as an act of that 
holy, wise, and gracious sovereignty, which the Most 
High is continually exercising in the administration of 
his affairs. You would not for a moment deny that he 
is entitled to such a sovereignty, or imagine that he 
can make an improper use of it. You know that he is 
infinitely exalted, and possesses, of unquestionable 
right, an absolute supremacy, doing according to his 
pleasure among the armies of heaven, and the inhabi- 
tants of the earth. This divine sovereignty, of course, 
affects your affairs, as it does those of all other crea- 
tures; and however an enemy to God might rebel 
against it, this is not what is expected from a friend. 
You are in the habit of acknowledging the sovereign- 
ty of God in your temporal affairs, and when they are 
not conformable to your wishes, you say submissively, 
The will of the Lord be done ; and why should you not 
cultivate a similar temper, as to what may really be 
the will of the Lord in reference to the conversion of 
sinners by your instrumentality ? What would you 



208 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

think of any husbandman who, in a had season, should 
petulantly exclaim, " I have carefully tilled the ground, 
and why have I not a crop ?" You will be long, I trust, 
before you exemplify in your own person such a spirit 
of absurd and sinful self-importance. 

You will scarcely imagine that, in the sovereignty 
thus exercised towards you, there is any thing incon- 
sistent with the promises on which you had establish- 
ed your hope. The promises of God are general, and 
so likewise is their fulfilment. There is a promise, an 
hitherto unbroken promise, of a harvest ; but always 
some seeds perish, some ears are blighted, and some 
fields are barren. In sowing seeds of truth there is 
likewise a portion of unsuccessfulness. Now this 
must be allotted somewhere ; and what if a measure of 
it is allotted to you ] Will you therefore be ready to 
complain, as though nothing could satisfy you but an 
exemption from the common lot of partial disappoint- 
ment] 

Neither will you conceive, I trust, that in this re- 
spect, the Lord deals with you unkindly. You will at 
least have no reason to think so. If you look through 
the history of his ways, you will find that many of his 
most honoured servants have partaken of similar dis- 
cipline. What but unsuccessful was the ministry of 
Enoch, and of Noah, of Elijah, and Elisha 1 You have 
heard the lamentations of Jeremiah ; and if you have 
to say, Who hath believed our report, and to whom is 
the arm of the Lord revealed, Isaiah said it before you. 
Similar treatment fell to the lot even of your Lord 
himself, than whom no minister was surely better 
entitled to expect success, while none was ever more 
unsuccessful. Now the servant is not above his Lord : 



SUCCESS WANTING. 209 

it is enough, and should be enough even for you, that 
the servant be as his Lord. 

You tremble perhaps for the cause of God, which 
you have desired to see prospering in your hands. But 
you need not do this. Your individual exertions con- 
stitute but a small fraction of the agency which is em- 
ployed for the advancement of his kingdom, and is far 
too insignificant to affect materially the general result, 
whatever may be the measure of its success. The blast- 
ing of a single field does not sensibly affect the har- 
vest. The resources of the Almighty are sufficiently 
ample to secure the accomplishment of his purposes, 
and the fulfilment of his promises too, whatever toils 
may be fruitless and unrewarded. Though your efforts 
may be abortive, his word shall not return unto him 
void, but shall accomplish that which he pleases, and 
prosper in the thing whereto he hath sent it. 

Nor suffer yourself to imagine for a moment that 
any thing is really lost. If instruction and expostula- 
tion be not effectual to the conversion of the sinner, 
there is another purpose to which they are effectual, 
and one which it is worth while to accomplish, even 
by itself. It is conducive to the glory of God, since it 
carries into operation that system of equitable and 
merciful probation which he has established in his go- 
vernment of mankind, and by the result of which, 
alike in the penitent and the impenitent, he will be 
eminently glorified. It is on~this ground, that, infinite- 
ly benevolent as he is, God himself submits to the 
obstinacy of the wicked, and suffers it to be perpetuat- 
ed ; and an end which gains his acquiescence may well 
induce ours. If sinners do not obey, we still bear a 
testimony for God, and not only uphold his rights and 



210 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

honours in the world now, but prepare for their fuller 
and more glorious manifestation hereafter. 

You may take even a further consolation. Not only 
shall an excellent purpose be answered by your la- 
bours, though unsuccessful in the conversion of sin- 
ners, but a better purpose than though success had 
been granted you. If there be any difficulty in making 
this clear in fact, we can have no hesitation in infer- 
ring it from the known and unquestionable character 
of the divine ways. God is of infinite wisdom. His 
sovereignty itself is wise. The ends which he brings 
to pass are, on the whole, the very best which could 
be attained. If any desirable end is passed by or frus- 
trated, it is only that one more desirable may be se- 
cured. In this view it may be truly affirmed that there 
is no failure, and no unsuccessfulness. And if he who 
knows all things, and sees all things as they really 
are, sees it good that an object should be produced by 
our labours differing somewhat from that which we 
have contemplated, a firm ground is laid for our ac- 
quiescence in his will. 

And we who labour shall not lose our reward. We 
may lose, indeed, what it would be unspeakably de- 
lightful to attain, namely, the rescue of sinners from 
the wrath to come ; but still we shall gain something, 
even an appropriate and blessed recompense. We 
shall be a sweet savour unto God, both in them that 
believe, and in them that perish. The labours which 
are rendered to him will be graciously accepted by 
him, and be more than recompensed by his present and 
future approbation. This is not only a high reward, 
but the highest reward possible : that upon which our 
desires should be chiefly fixed, and which in all events 



SUCCESS WANTING. 211 

is sure. Suppose there were to be no other, and that 
the gratification arising* from the actual salvation of 
sinners were to be wholly withheld from us, this ought 
to be more than enough to animate and to sweeten 
our toil. 

4. I observe further, that, from whatever cause your 
want of success may have arisen, it is adapted to yield 
you instruction and benefit, which it should be your 
earnest endeavour to secure. 

If, for example, you feel yourself justified in refer- 
ring it to God's sovereign pleasure, you will find occa- 
sion for corresponding exercises of mind. It is proba- 
ble that you feel somewhat of disappointment and 
mortification, akin perhaps to the feeling of Jonah 
when he sat waiting, not indeed for the salvation of 
Nineveh, but for its destruction. You may be tempted, 
like him, to say that you do well to be angry; but, as 
in the case of the ancient prophet, the Lord means to 
teach you otherwise. Here is something of self-will 
and self-importance to be brought down. You must 
learn that the glory of the Creator is far more than 
the gratification, and even than the salvation of the 
creature. You must learn to blend ardent desire with 
silent submission, and to resign without a murmur an 
object for which you have striven with your utmost 
ardour. It is the Lord, and not you, whose will is to 
be done. 

You may thus learn, too, upon what object your 
heart should be chiefly set. It should of course be 
that which is most secure, and which exposes you to 
no risk of disappointment. Now this is the glory of 
God as promoted by your labours, rather than the sal- 
vation of men. The latter we may hope to attain ; of 



212 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

I be fanner we may in all cases be certain. By such 
a dispensation God attaches to it the highest value, as 
a matter of practical pursuit And herein, in truth, 
our hearts need discipline. We are too apt, either to 
confine our view to the salvation of men, overlooking 
entirely the glory of God, or to attach to it a dispro- 
portionate value. Let our disappointments rectify this 
evil : and without at all diminishing our desire for the 
salvation of men, for which we do not yet long writh 
sufficient ardour, let them teach us that we ought to 
contemplate another as our chief end, and that in its 
prosecution we shall have a certain reward. 

The benefit of cur learning these lessons effectually 
will not be confined to our personal experience, it will 
extend also to our work. I: is when we are annihilated 
before God that he may begin to exalt us ; when we 
have learned to acquiesce in his will, he maV grant us 
our own ; when we come to seek first his glory, he 
may afford us more extensively the salvation of men. 
A high bounty is thus attached to our growth in spi- 
ritual wisdom, and to our right interpretation of God's 
dispensations. Let us remember that there is some- 
thing more to be done with them than to bear them, 

:iier with or without repining; we have to tm- 
prove them, and in this method we shall be well repaid 
tor our trouble. 

If. ::. .-T ::her hand, we find reason to conclude 
that our want of success arises from our own defects, 

obvious that this is a loud call to humiliation and 
to diliger.iT. 

It is a call to humiliation. For what weighty mat- 

f grief and shame it is that we should be unfit for 
the work of God ! We, who ought to know how to 



SUCCESS WANTING. 213 

convince a sinner of sin, since we have been convinced 
of it ; who ought to be skilled in pointing him to the 
Saviour, since we have found our way to his footstool ; 
who ought to have a solemn sense of eternal things, 
since our eyes have beheld their glory ; who ought to 
labour in a spirit of unfeigned devotedness to God, 
since we have felt the influence of his love ; what an 
affliction it ought to be to us that we yet proceed to 
our work in so defective a spirit, and pursue it in so 
unskilful a manner, that it shall have little or no adapt- 
ation to success ! Is it not a shame to us 1 Does it not 
call upon us to humble ourselves before God, and to 
bewail the evils which so fatally impede our usefulness 
in his work 1 It would be painful if our success were 
obstructed by others ; but how much more painful to 
find it obstructed by ourselves ! In a work which it 
belongs to us to do, and which we ought to be prepared 
to do, to be so unskilful as to do harm rather than 
good ! To see the very persons among whom we have 
been labouring still ignorant, stupid, and undone, be- 
cause we have been trifling or feeble, self-seeking or 
self-sufficient ! And thus to become ourselves the 
murderers of the souls of men, and of the very souls 
we would save ! " Deliver us from blood-guiltiness, 
OGod!" 

But our feelings should not evaporate in sorrow. 
There is a call to diligence, as well as to grief. It is 
not as though the evils which we bewail could not be 
removed. They may be removed ; and, if we apply 
ourselves to the task, they speedily will be so. If we 
study it diligently and prayerfully, the word of God 
will dwell in us richly in all wisdom, and we shall be- 
come competent to wield the sword of the Spirit with 



214 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

much greater precision arid effect ; if we live nearer 
to eternity, we shall carry a more solemn and tender 
sense of it into our converse with the guilty and the 
lost ; if we enter more deeply into the spirit of piety, 
we shall enter more thoroughly into the spirit of our 
work. In a word, there is nothing pertaining to our 
fitness for this work of saving souls which we may not 
successfully cultivate. Are we not called upon to do 
this? How long do we mean that sinners should 
perish through our deficiencies 1 In what other case 
should we be content with evils which produced equal 
injury to others and disappointment to ourselves ! In 
this case, above all others, we ought not to be so ; but 
we are called upon by the strongest motives to give 
all diligence in becoming better fitted for a work 
which we may not resign, and the issues of which are 
so unspeakably solemn. 

5. I remark in conclusion, that want of success in 
our labour ought not to induce either abandonment or 
despondency. Never suffer yourselves to say, " it is 
of no use to try any longer." As I have said already, 
you have an important object to effect, even if a single 
sinner be not converted ; and under no circumstances 
ought you to desist from taking a part with God in his 
righteous controversy with mankind. But in addition 
to this, the object of saving men from everlasting de- 
struction is clearly too important to be relinquished, 
while any possibility of accomplishing it remains ; and 
if you are not competent to say what has been the ef- 
fect of the past, how much less can you tell what may 
be the result of the future ? As for despondency, it is 
one of the most injurious of all possible things. It 



SUCCESS WANTING. 215 

does endless mischief, and is utterly destitute of reason. 
Though no sinner may have been converted under our 
instrumentality, yet, the Lord's hand is not shortened 
that he cannot save, neither is his ear heavy that he 
cannot hear. If he should be pleased to exert his 
power, he can open the blindest eyes and subdue the 
stoutest heart ; and when he may do so you know not. 
It may be speedily ; the day of his power may be even 
now arrived. It may be that, while you are fainting-, 
he is girding himself for the battle. It may be that 
he only looks for another resolved effort on your part, 
and for a little more exercise of faith and patience, be- 
fore he pours you out an abundant blessing. It is cha- 
racteristic of his ways to try faith before he rewards 
it; he has often reduced men to straits before he has 
granted them a supply, and many have found the bor- 
ders of despair to be the verge of triumph. If you 
seem reduced to the necessity of despondency, that is 
just a reason why you should imbibe fresh hope. All 
your self-sufficiency having perished, now make an- 
other effort, more eminently in the name and strength 
of the Lord, and peradventure the Lord will be with 
you. At all events banish despondency. This can do 
no good, but is inevitably mischievous. It enfeebles 
all the impulses of action, as well as action itself. Un- 
der its influence, you will either set about nothing at 
all, or nothing heartily. Making attempts without 
vigour, they will be equally without success, and al- 
ready depressed by disappointment, you will yield 
yourself a prey to its severer influences. Nothing is 
to be wrought by a despairing hand. Rather "be 
steadfast, and unmoveable, always abounding in the 



216 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

work of the Lord ; for as much as ye know that your 
labour shall not be in vain in the Lord. Neither be 
weary in well doing ; for in due time you shall reap, 
if you faint not." At all events this promise must 
remain uncontradicted till the day of God, and if then 
you find it broken, chide him for the forfeiture of his 
word. 



LECTURE XII. 

SUCCESS GRANTED. 



2 Cor. ii. 14. 

Noio thanks be to God, ichich always causeth us to 
triumph in Christ, and maketh manifest the savour 
of his knowledge by us in every place. 

If it is not always, dear brethren, that you can asso- 
ciate such language as this with your efforts of use- 
fulness, I trust it is so sometimes. If, indeed, you are 
of that inconsistent, but I fear at present large num- 
ber of professors, who never try to turn a sinner to 
God, then, of course, you have never succeeded. Such 
a result is scarcely to be fallen upon by accident. Of 
many of you, however, I hope better things. Indeed, 
I know that you have been labouring for God and for 
the souls of men ; nor am I willing to believe that you 
have made prayerful, earnest, and persevering efforts, 
without being able to trace, in a greater or less de- 
gree, and however short of what you may have ex- 
pected or desired, the beneficial influence of them. 
Having entered into contact with the ignorance, pre- 
judices and passions of ungodly men, if often defeated, 
God has caused you on some occasions to triumph by 
Christ, whose truth and love have been your weapons 
in the war : and if not in every place, yet in some of 
the places where you have been endeavouring to make 
it felt that, as the salt of the earth, you have not lost 
your saltness, you have had the pleasure of seeing the 



218 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

savour of his knowledge more or less extensively dif- 
fused. Now it is our present business to consider 
what exercises of mind become us when success has 
been attained. In order that this subject may be more 
effectively pursued, let it be your concern to fix your 
eye distinctly and steadily on the portion of success 
which God has granted you, whatever it may be. 
Glance over the whole field and course of your la- 
bours, not to dwell on their general results, or to be- 
wail their comparative fruitlessness, but for the pur- 
pose of selecting the instances, or the solitary instance 
if there be but one, of successful effort, that you may 
the more vividly realize them as facts, and the more 
readily awaken your hearts to just and corresponding 
emotions. 

It is not for a moment to be supposed that you can 
look upon even a single instance of success in the 
conversion of sinners, without emotion ; and quite as 
little is it to be supposed that your emotions will be all 
that they ought to be. In the most devout mind, holy 
exercises never spontaneously rise to a due height, or 
escape the perverting influence of inward corruption. 
In this point, as in all others, though our involuntary 
emotions may be far from feeble, we shall find that 
our hearts cannot safely be abandoned to themselves ; 
on the contrary, they will need a close watchfulness 
and vigorous discipline, if we wish either to avoid 
what is wrong, or to fulfil what is right. We should 
beware of suffering ourselves to suppose that, because 
when a case of success arises, we feel a thrill of glad- 
ness, or shed a few tears of ecstasy, or are led to bow 
in thankfulness to the giver of all good, we have felt 
all which it is proper or important to feel : we may 



SUCCESS GRANTED. 219 

yet detect many an evil sentiment mingling itself 
with the good, or find that the good should be carried 
to a much greater extent. 

What, then, are the emotions which a review of 
successful labour for the souls of men should awaken ] 

I. The first of them undoubtedly is joy. Upon this 
obvious topic it would be easy to indulge in general 
representations of the delight with which we all know 
the conversion of a sinner is regarded in heaven, and 
should be regarded on earth ; but I propose rather to 
exhibit in detail some of the grounds on which glad- 
ness may be strongly cherished. 

1. You may rejoice, then, when you see that your 
endeavours have been blessed to the conversion of a 
sinner, on account of the nature of the change which 
is thus produced. There is an excellency in the 
change itself, and a blessedness in its consequences, 
altogether striking and incalculable. 

Trace what has occurred in the mind of a converted 
sinner. His understanding was once darkness, the 
seat of deep ignorance, of rooted prejudices, of long- 
established errors ; but you have seen the light of 
truth penetrate it, and the beam from heaven disperse 
the shadows of every form, until you can say, " Ye 
were once darkness, but now are ye light in the 
Lord." His conscience, though not altogether incapa- 
ble of feeling, was almost utterly torpid and insensible, 
having been stupified and rendered callous by the 
long-cherished love and practice of sin ; but you have 
seen it awake from its slumbers, throw off its torpidi- 
ty, and assume a tenderness of sensibility, and a vi- 
gour of action, adapted to its supremacy in the moral 
constitution of man. You have seen the convictions 
v2 



220 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

of an enlightened understanding reach it with the 
speed and force of the lightning, and the internal 
monarch utter his mandates as in a voice of thunder. 
You have seen the passions which were once* as im- 
perious and tyrannical, as they were wedded to ini- 
quity, and unchecked in their career by the slumber- 
ing conscience, quail before its awakened power, and 
submit themselves, at first perhaps unwillingly, to a 
sense of obligation, which ultimately they have learn- 
ed to love. And thus the whole character has been 
changed ; old things are passed away, and all things, 
inward and outward, are become new. There is some- 
thing in such a change unspeakably interesting and 
delightful. It is a change from sin to righteousness ; 
from pollution to purity ; from what is base and abom- 
inable to what is excellent and holy : it is the exter- 
mination of principles of iniquity, and the generation 
in their stead of a character after the pattern of God's 
own heart. No words can do justice to the greatness 
or the value of such a transformation. It is emphati- 
cally called " a new creation.'" You would doubtless 
feel much if you were allowed to be the spectator of 
a new world, as it should arise in beauty from its ma- 
ker's hand ; but you may and should feel much more 
in contemplating the production of that which, in the 
case of every individual convert, may be justly called 
the new world " wherein dwelleth righteousness." 

From the mind of a converted sinner, pass on to his 
condition. While in sin, he was at once tormented by 
his own passions, abhorred by his Maker, and con- 
demned by his judge. Wretched from the state of his 
own heart, though surrounded by sources of happiness, 
he was at the same time under a curse awful enough 



SUCCESS GRANTED. 221 

to make the ears of every one that heareth it to tin- 
gle. There lay on him the just wrath of an offended 
God; he stood instantly exposed to the stroke of that 
indignant arm which drove rebellious angels to the 
horrors of the deep ; and could not be secure one mo- 
ment that he should not be the next in the regions of 
perdition and the anguish of despair. But what a 
change have you witnessed ! By faith in Christ Jesus 
this wretched victim of his iniquities has been rescued 
at once from the yoke of his bondage, and the curse of 
the law. Cancelled for ever is the condemnation that 
was written against him, and he is passed from death 
unto life, while the chains are likewise burst asunder 
from his soul, and he springs into liberty as the Lord's 
freeman. You have thus beheld a rebel whom ven- 
geance was pursuing, escape from the wrath to come ; 
you have seen him welcomed to the footstool of mercy, 
and to the family of God; you have beheld him enter 
into the privileges of the saints on earth, and acquire 
a hope of their inheritance in heaven. Can you esti- 
mate the importance, or measure the immensity, of 
this change 1 Look down to the deeps of hell, and let 
your thoughts penetrate, as far as mortals may, the 
fathomless abyss, — 'tis thence that this immortal has 
been redeemed. Look upwards to the realms of " light 
which no man can approach unto," and gaze as intently 
as you can on those distant, yet dazzling glories, — 'tis 
thither that this rescued one is destined. Can you view 
such a change without joy ! Forbid it all the powers 
of sympathy in the heart of man ! Compare it with 
any of the touching occurrences which may be wit- 
nessed in ordinary life. You would rejoice if, beholding 
a shipwrecked mariner buffeting with the waves 
u3 



222 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

which, tempest-tossed, threatened every moment to de- 
vour him, and exerting every sinew of his fast-waning* 
strength to reach the shore, where all dear and tender 
ties held and racked the wife and the children who 
looked upon his fate as their own, you should see him 
at length safely clasped in their embrace. You would 
rejoice if, while you were looking on a criminal ap- 
pointed to die with the morrow's dawn, and gazing on 
the palid countenance and the quivering frame too fee- 
bly indicating the unutterable agony of the inward 
strife, you were to witness the annunciation of his 
pardon, and the convulsed ecstasies through which he 
would return to the hopes and joys of the living, as 
from the very jaws of the grave. But how much more 
should you rejoice (for these occurrences, however in- 
teresting, are as nothing in the comparison) to see a 
perishing immortal escape from the brink of eternal 
woes, and reach, at one step, the gates of celestial 
glory ! 

Observe, further, the change in a converted sinners 
condition as it relates to God. In his impenitence he 
was doing perpetual dishonour to his Maker, setting 
himself in an attitude of defiance to most just autho- 
rity, trampling on righteous commands, and despising 
condescending mercy. Perhaps he was a blasphemer 
of the Most High, and his mouth full of imprecations. 
As a friend of God you beheld these things with no 
inconsiderable grief; your heart bled for your Father's 
honour, and the injuries aimed at him fell heavily on 
you. But in this respect, also, your wounds are now 
healed, and your tears are dried up. The once obdurate 
rebel is now submissive at his Maker's feet. No longer 
an enemy, he has laid down the weapons of the unhal- 



SUCCESS GRANTED. 223 

lowed war; he acknowledges the righteousness of the 
law he resisted, and loves the obedience he abhorred. 
Confession of his iniquity takes the place of excuses ; 
and while he comes with shame and confusion of face, 
he renders a willing honour to the Lord. In this, also, 
you may well rejoice. If you are on the Lord's side, 
his victories are yours. 

2. If the conversion of a sinner by your instrumen- 
tality is thus in itself adapted to awaken your joy, it is 
yet more so on account of your immediate connexion 
with it It must have engaged your attention with 
great intensity. Now the sympathy we feel in every 
case is proportioned to the force with which our atten- 
tion has been drawn to it. It is, indeed, an obdurate 
heart which does not sympathize with the entire mass 
of sorrow which we know exists in the world; but it 
is not such a general reflection which most powerfully 
awakens our feelings. It is when we enter some sin- 
gle habitation of woe, and behold affliction in its indi- 
vidual forms, the hunger, nakedness, and destitution of 
the houseless wanderer, the ghastly paleness of the 
wretched dying, or the sobs and tears of the new made 
widow and fatherless, it is then that the heart is most 
deeply touched. On the same ground, while you re- 
joice at the conversion of sinners in a general view, 
your joy should be more especially awakened when 
such a result takes place by your own instrumentality. 
In this case you have been devoting a closer attention 
to the object. You have looked more nearly at the 
previous ignorance, depravity and ruin; you have had 
continually before you the awful peril from which an 
escape has been effected ; you have narrowly watched 
the progress of the inward strife ; and now that its 
u4 



2*24 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

result appears, your heart should be prepared for the 
most vehement emotions of joy, emotions of a force 
which would leave the feelings of a stranger, though 
a pious one, far behind. 

Your sympathy will naturally be still further height- 
ened by the part you have taken in producing the 
effect. When we expend labour or resources of any 
kind upon an object, it tends to create an interest in it 
proportionately deep. We regard it then as an affair 
of our own, and identify ourselves much more closely 
than we otherwise should with the issue. Hence 
therefore your joy, when you see, not merely a sinner 
converted, but a sinner converted by your instrumen- 
tality. It is the success of your own labour ; the happy 
issue of an endeavour which you have made. And this 
success may be the more interesting to you, because 
the labours from which it results have, perhaps, been 
far from inconsiderable. It is an object for which your 
efforts have been strenuous, your anxiety deep, your 
prayers importunate : you wanted it much, and you 
strove hard to attain it ; and now it is attained, your 
delight is proportionate to the previous intensity of 
your concern. 

There is something most delightful, also, though so- 
lemn and almost oppressive, in the thought of having 
achieved so vast an object. Our gratification in action 
always rises in propoition to the magnitude or value 
of the results we can produce ; and we feel this parti- 
cularly, when we have an opportunity of doing any 
thing out of the ordinary course. We derive peculiar 
gratification, for example, when we can give effectual 
relief to a case of unusual distress, or to an un- 
usual number of cases, of distress ; or if circum- 



SUCCESS GRANTED. 225 

stances occur which enable us to save life, as by res- 
cuing a person from peril by water or by fire, or by 
procuring the pardon of a criminal condemned. This 
feeling is carried to an immeasurably greater height, 
when we entertain the thought that we have saved a 
soul from death, and have thus hidden a multitude of 
sins and prevented a multitude of sorrows. The words 
in which such a fact is expressed may be few and sim- 
ple, and easily forgotten ; but let the fact itself be 
weighed and realized, and it will be found to be vast 
and magnificent, even to oppression. If you have 
saved but one precious and immortal soul from eternal 
death, your existence has not been in vain. You have 
accomplished an object incalculably greater than the 
acquisition of wealth, or honour, or power, to whatever 
extent they might have been pursued ; an object, the 
value of which it will need the glories of eternity to 
demonstrate to you ; an object for which an angel, and 
a host of angels, might be well contented to have lived. 
It may be observed, further, that the conversion of 
a sinner most delightfully recompenses the labour by 
which it is effected. It gains love, the chief treasure 
of the human heart. How delightful the love is which 
is borne you by a person whom you have been the 
means of turning to the Lord ! Dear and precious to 
him as his rescued soul and his inestimable privileges 
are, he links you with them all ; he looks upon you as, 
under God, his deliverer, and pours upon you his 
warmest benedictions. Is it nothing that, when he 
sees you, his eye beams with a delight which the as- 
pect of no other friend causes to glisten there 1 Is it 
nothing that you have gained in his heart the place of 
a benefactor, second only to the Almighty himself] 
u5 



226 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

Amidst all the sounds expressive of affectionate re- 
gard, and all of them are sweet, is not the most de- 
lightful that which conveys to you " the blessing of 
him that was ready to perish )" Nor is this all ; some- 
thing still more delightful awaits you. Look forward 
to the eternal world. The day is coming when you 
will meet this redeemed sinner in the realms of glory, 
and, with new views of the change you have been the 
means of working in him, will again clasp him to 
your heart ; while, hand in hand presenting yourselves 
before your common Redeemer, you may say, with 
raptures yet unknown, ' Behold me and the recom- 
pense thou hast given me.' For what is your hope, 
or joy, or crown of rejoicing ! Is it not even these, 
in the presence of the Lord Jesus at his coming 7 

If it should seem superfluous to show with so much 
minuteness the reasons why you should be joyful when 
sinners are converted by your instrumentality, I can 
only say that, natural as joy is in such a case, it never 
rises to a proper height ; and that it needs the distinct 
and serious consideration of the topics I have now ex- 
hibited to awaken any thing like an adequate emotion. 
We lose much by this defect, not only in pleasure, but 
in profit. Our joy is to be not only a gratification, 
but an impulse ; and if on the one hand it is necessary, 
on the other it is highly important, that pains should 
be taken to raise it to a just elevation. 

II. A second emotion to be cultivated in viewing 
the success of our labours is gratitude. That is to 
say, our joy should be blended with a reference to 
him who is the giver of every good, and not be suffered 
to degenerate into self-gratulation and complacency. 
Perfectly obvious as it is that this ought to be the 



SUCCESS GRANTED. 227 

case, and natural as it will be to every devout or con- 
siderate mind, there is yet much danger, not merely 
of defect, but of transgression. Although not vain 
enough to say, with the open pride of an ancient king, 
" Is not this great Babylon which I have builded," 
we are nevertheless sufficiently corrupt to rest with 
an unhallowed and self-elevating pleasure on the fact 
that we have been successful in turning a sinner to 
God, and secretly to take to ourselves a part of the 
honour which belongs to him alone. The prevention 
or correction of such feelings, and the cultivation of a 
just and proportionate gratitude, may be promoted by 
such methods as the following. 

1. We should impress ourselves with the fact that 
the conversion of a sinner by our instrumentality is 
owing, not to the means employed, but to the blessing 
of God upon them. I say we should impress our- 
selves with this fact, because it is one of which there 
is not wanting any proof. We know and fully ad- 
mit, that every good and perfect gift cometh down 
from the Father of lights ; and that, alike in the natu- 
ral and in the spiritual world, while one planteth and 
another watereth, it is God who giveth the increase. 
We know and admit that, without his almighty grace, 
the perverse heart of a sinner would refuse all instruc- 
tion, would resist all importunity, would despise all 
warnings ; and that, if left alone, we should be aban- 
doned, even in our most strenuous exertions, to the 
derision of the foes with whom we have ventured to 
contend. If in any case it is otherwise, and if we 
have seen the dark mind enlightened and the stubborn 
heart subdued, it would be contradictory to all our know- 
ledge, and a matter of manifest absurdity, to refer the 



228 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

efficacy of our endeavours in any measure t6 our- 
selves. Every right-minded and considerate husband- 
man, as he looks on the fields which are white unto 
the harvest, exclaims, Behold the goodness of God ! 
And pre-eminently such should our language be, when, 
having gone forth weeping, bearing precious seed, we 
return again rejoicing, bringing our sheaves with us. 
What is wanting in this case is not to establish the 
truth, but to impress it on our minds, that it may have 
its due effect ; otherwise it will be in a great measure 
useless, and the evil feelings which it is adapted to 
correct will revel in defiance of it. 

2. Our gratitude should be further awakened by a 
recollection of the condescending kindness which 
God has herein shown us. For it is an exercise of 
kindness that he should even permit us to labour, and 
much more that he should make us successful. He 
does in fact confer upon us in this method a most un- 
speakable pleasure, and it is for the purpose of confer- 
ring this pleasure that he employs our instrumentality. 
He has no need of us ; nor will he allow us to regard his 
call to action, however authoritative, merely as labour 
imposed, but as a privilege allowed. The salvation 
of sinners is an object which he himself pursues with 
gladness, and from which he derives divine delight : 
and among his reasons for employing us, this at least 
is one, that he wishes to impart to us a measure of his 
own joy. He has appointed that his word should 
reach the ear of sinners through our lips, and that 
his truth should be conveyed to their hearts through our 
hands, in order that the streams of that blessedness of 
which he is the fountain may flow into our breasts. 
How thankful we should be for such an arrangement ! 



SUCCESS GRANTED. 229 

What a happiness, what an honour it is, to he taken 
from that region of inferior pursuits in which we might 
have been left, and associated with the Almighty in 
the accomplishment of his most glorious purposes; 
and to be made links in the chain of instrumental 
causes through which he impels his effectual agency ! 
Why should he condescend to employ any such instru- 
mentality for the accomplishment of his will 1 And 
if any, why mine ! 

3. Our gratitude may be fed also by a distinct 
consideration of the unworthiness, or I may rather 
say the sinfulness, of the endeavours which have been 
so graciously blessed. For what part of our activity 
for God can we look upon with entire satisfaction 1 Is 
there not every where, at the very best, a sad defi- 
ciency and mixture of motive, an afflictive want of 
solemnity and tenderness, together with a multitude 
of other evils, adapted to frustrate the very endeavours 
we have made, and to provoke a holy God to withhold 
his blessing 1 Yet he has been so rich in mercy that 
he has forgiven all this iniquity, and granted a bless- 
ing notwithstanding all. In addition to this, we 
may be able to trace some of the success which has 
been afforded us to seasons of peculiar unworthiness, 
when we were more careless and prayerless than 
usual, when we were experiencing more especial bar- 
renness, or when we felt more aggravated discourage- 
ment. If to such efforts the Lord has been graciously 
pleased to give a blessing, it must indeed be not for 
our sakes, but for his own name's sake, and to him 
should all the praise more carefully be given. 

III. Finally, a view of our success should induce 
enlargement both of desire and exertion. Natural as 



230 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN 

this influence might seem to be, it is far from being 
uniformly or consistently felt We are very prone to 
sit down contented with what we have effected, and to 
make it rather a plea for subsequent repose than an 
impulse to new exertion. Against this injurious per- 
version of a slothful heart, we should be closely on our 
guard ; and the more so, because our desire is always 
apt to be too contracted, and success has a valuable 
tendency, when rightly considered, to expand it 

If a thing be really delightful to us, the possession 
of a little is clearly adapted to create a longing for 
more. It is so with any food which particularly pleases 
the palate ; it is so with wealth, honour, friendship, 
and the other objects which engage the warm passions 
of men ; and if the salvation of souls be really delight- 
ful to us, why should not its effect be similar ? Is this 
gratification so insipid to us that a little of it is suf- 
ficient ] Having saved one or a few sinners from 
death, is the joy we derive from it so small that we 
court no more. 

And as our success is adapted to augment our desire, 
so it is equally adapted to encourage and quicken our 
exertions. 

1. It demonstrates the practicability of the object. 
We were impeded in the outset of our labours, it may 
be, by a vague but oppressive feeling of the improba- 
bility of any good resulting from them. We had a 
sort of conviction that it would be vain for us to make 
any attempt ; as though we could have said, " I am 
sure I can do nothing, and it is of no use to urge me to 
it" But in our success we have a practical proof of 
the erroneousness of such an idea. It is now manifest 
that even such endeavours as ours may be effectual to 



SUCCESS GRANTED. 231 

the saving of sinners, if God give them his blessing, 
since they have already been so, and what has been 
once may be again. When you look on the sinners 
who are still around you, therefore, it is no longer pos- 
sible for you to say with any consistency or truth, " I 
cannot save them:" it is plain that, under God, you 
can, and that you have in your possession means truly 
and adequately adapted to the end. If henceforth you 
are slothful, it will evidently be, not because you can- 
not act, but because you will not. Do you mean that 
it should be so ] 

2. It facilitates the attainment of the object. It 
teaches us what the methods are in which success may 
be hoped for, and thus removes one of our early and 
most distressing embarrassments. In the commence- 
ment perhaps we felt as though the conversion of a 
sinner were a thing which we did not know how to set 
about ; that we could not tell which way to begin, or 
what method to pursue. We did not know what ap- 
pearances human guilt and perverseness would present, 
or by what methods we might rationally attempt to re- 
move them. If we have been at all attentive to our 
work, this sense of ignorance can no longer exist. We 
have now come into close contact with the blinded 
understanding and the depraved heart of man ; we 
have tried, however unskilfully, to meet their neces- 
sities ; and through God's mercy, we have not tried 
without success. Now therefore we know, in a mea- 
sure, both what to expect, and what to do. We have 
tried our weapons, we have found out something of their 
adaptation and their power, and we are in some de- 
gree acquainted with the method of their use. And 
our knowledge is the more valuable because it is alto- 



232 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

gether practical. It is not the instruction of theory, 
but of experience ; and it fits us decidedly for more 
easy and successful exertions in time to come. This 
surely is far from being a time to lay our labours aside. 
It would be a matter, not only of regret but of shame, 
to suffer the knowledge we have thus acquired to be 
useless. On the contrary, our consciousness that the 
greatest difficulty is past, and that we have now a fa- 
cility for the work which we have not had before, 
should clearly lead us to continued and extended ac- 
tivity. 

3. It realizes the anticipated pleasure of success ; 
and so tends to diminish the vis inertice, the love of 
repose, which impedes every new exertion. The call 
of duty is indeed enforced in the first instance by the 
declaration that a reward shall be given ; but the re- 
compense is distant, if not uncertain, and is far from 
being vividly realized. Now, however, the sweets of 
successful labour have been actually tasted by you ; 
and you can tell by experience whether the recom- 
pense is adequate to the toil. How do you now feel 
respecting the exertions you have already made 1 Are 
you at this moment sorry that the voice of duty effectu- 
ally penetrated your ear, and reached your slumbering 
conscience ; that the motives which summoned you to 
action, however unwelcome, were pressed home upon 
your heart till your long resisting indolence was 
overcome ; that you contended with your fears, that 
you encountered the embarrassments of your early 
toil, and made whatever sacrifices it might involve of 
personal ease and gratification] Do you now wish 
that you had persevered in your resistance or evasion 
of every call ; that you had still sheltered yourself 



SUCCESS GRANTED. 233 

under vain excuses ; and maintained undisturbed your 
criminal repose 1 I am sure you do not. To say no- 
thing of the immediate reward with which duty and 
rectitude are always connected, you have found the joy 
of saving one sinner outweigh all the conflict, and toil, 
and sacrifice it has cost you. For such a result how 
gladly would you endure it all again ! Endure it then 
again ! That is the very thing I am urging upon you. 
Behold hundreds and thousands of other sinners perish- 
ing around you; and what you have done for those you 
have rescued, do for those who are yet in peril. Their 
salvation will be as precious a recompense to you as 
that of those on whom you now look with such ravish- 
ing joy. Will you not seize it] Or why should you 
yield to slothful impediments in this case, which in the 
former you rejoice to have resisted and overcome ] 

4. It supplies evidence of God's faithfulness to 
his promises. These, from the first, have been the 
foundation of your hope ; and yet often perhaps have 
been regarded with unbelief. You have feared that 
they would not be fulfilled, at least to you. Notwith- 
standing it was said to you, "Be stedfast and un- 
moveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, 
for as much as ye know that your labour shall not be 
in vain in the Lord," though you did not contradict, 
you doubted whether it would be so. Others indeed 
might be blessed ; but you scarcely expected a bless- 
ing upon your labours. See now how you are con- 
founded and put to shame ! Though your unbelief 
has tended to preclude you from the benefit of the 
promise, yet in God's eternal faithfulness it has been 
fulfilled. Your labour has not been in vain in the 
Lord. The fidelity of the divine promise, therefore, 



234 THE ACTIVE CHRISTIAN. 

is now not a matter of faith, but of experience. You 
can doubt it no more, because it is a fact in your own 
history. Behold, then, the light which your own ex- 
perience casts upon the future. You now know that 
your labour shall not be in vain in the Lord : you will 
no longer hesitate, then, to act up to the full import of 
the exhortation founded upon this fact, " Therefore be 
ye stedfast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work 
of the Lord." Or should you not do so, we shall have 
occasion to suspect that even the recompense which 
the promises of God hold out to you is insufficient to 
awaken your desire, and to overcome your sloth. 

5. It gives a present recompense to toil. When 
our labour for the souls of men is compared to that of 
the husbandman, and our instructions and diversified 
endeavours to the sowing of the seed, we should recollect 
that the only period which can properly be called the 
harvest, is "the end of the world." We must wait 
till that day for the whole result of our exertions, and 
we might not unnaturally have been required to wait 
as long for every portion of it. To witness the fruit- 
fulness of our scattered seed, and to bring the sheaves 
home with joy, is the work of the harvest rather than 
of the seed-time. Yet a measure of this is graciously 
granted us now. In the present life we not only sow, 
but reap; and if at one period we are going forth 
weeping, bearing precious seed, at another we are re- 
turning with joy, bringing our sheaves with us. Is 
this condescending kindness to be lost upon us ? If we 
dislike toil so much that we will not sow, are we like- 
wise so idle that we will not reap ? He that reapeth 
receiveth wages which may well recompense him for 
his toil, when he gathereth in fruit unto life eternal. 



SUCCESS GRANTED. 235 

And if this partial reaping on earth is blessed, how 
much more blessed to the faithful and persevering 
labourer shall be his reward, when the harvest of the 
whole earth shall be ripe, and he shall reap, with un- 
utterable gladness, the crop which grace has promised 
and eternal love secures ! 

Such are the influences, dear brethren, which you 
should derive from success. Be joyful, be grateful, be 
enlarged. And the Lord make both your labours and 
your success a thousand times more than they are, 
until you shall be able to say with the apostle, " Now 
thanks be to God, who always causeth us to triumph 
in Christ, and maketh manifest by us the savour of his 
knowledge in every place !" Amen. 



THE END. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




017 042 953 9 







llllBi 






mm 






jgs egjEsSS 






•^HH 


iffcllliifi 


H h 


I i ~^om 






Hi 


. 




ftsfiwwjp?? 


■n 




UllL 


■ 




^mwBB 




JisSiH 






M 




Hi 


11111 




H 




H§J 1 




rAtJfjflwl 






cs£«92fls 






1#5H 


ml V -W 


■ 









